Switching Sides
by TayaCurragh
Summary: When Draco Malfoy accepts Dumbledore's request to join the 'light' side, he is pulled into the trio's quest to search for the Horcruxes. But can people so different learn to get along and trust each other? Canon pairings.
1. The Proposition

**Switching Sides**

**The song 'I couldn't kill Albus Dumbledore' by Draco and the Malfoys was partially behind this idea. It's a really good song, I recommend that you check it out. This chapter is in Draco Malfoy's point of view, but the rest of the story will not be – I'll change this chapter when I have time :)  
**

**Thanks to Moose on Mars and my beta-reader ToxicRainfall (who is awesome :D)**

**Chapter One  
The Proposition**

"Go! Now, Draco!" Bellatrix called over the sound of people duelling. "We'll come as soon as we get rid of these fools!"

She pushed me roughly towards the stairs leading up to the highest tower. I stumbled onto the first step and looked back uncertainly. Bellatrix, my aunt, beckoned for me to continue up and so I sighed in resignation. I had no choice. I _had _to complete my task.

I took the stairs slowly, every step bringing me closer to my decided fate. I was to become a full Death Eater. A murderer. It felt as though everything was happening in slow motion. I think that, if I had a choice, I would rather die than have to do my duty tonight. Although it _is_ true that I was never close with Dumbledore, that didn't mean I wanted him dead. I couldn't do it…I wouldn't...I- No. I _had_ to do it. If I don't, it wouldn't just be my life on the line. My parents would suffer too...

Upon reaching the top of the flight of stairs, I pushed the door open with as much strength as I could muster. I heard it hit the wall with a loud bang.

"Expelliarmus!" I called without thinking, hardly recognising my own voice. The old man's wand flew into my outstretched hand easily, and I stared at it for a moment. Why didn't he counter me? Why was he so unprepared? Doubt formed in my mind. Maybe I shouldn't have disarmed him; I can't kill a defenceless old man…That's not who I am, or who I want to be. I sighed again. It's who I _have_ to be.

Dumbledore looked extremely pale, but showed no other signs of discomfort.

"Hello, Draco," he greeted, as if he had merely invited me in for a cup of tea. He looked me in the eyes, and they did not show the fear I was expecting. They were full of something else… pity? Why was _he_ pitying _me_?

Looking away, I glanced around the darkening room suspiciously to ensure that we were alone. I almost missed the two broomsticks that had been placed up against the wall in the furthest corner of the room. A feeling of panic overwhelmed me. My grey eyes roamed the room desperately, looking for any sign of another person. When I was certain that the room was empty, I turned back to the serene old man.

"Who else is here? Where are they?" I tried to sound as unconcerned as possible, but a hint of fear crept into my voice. My eyes flickered towards the brooms, but I returned my gaze to Dumbledore's. He spoke softly.

"If I may, there is a question I might ask of you. As I doubt you are acting alone, I would like to know; who else is here?"

I considered my answer quickly. I decided, since I have to do it, I may as well play the part properly. I looked back at Dumbledore, trying to arrange my features into a hate-filled expression.

"No." I added my customary smirk. "There are others. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight. I bet you never saw that coming."

If Dumbledore was shocked at the remark, he managed to hide it well. "Ah, I see. Clever. Oh, but, forgive me… where are they now? You seem quite alone."

"They're coming!" I felt uncertain. There was a part of me, a very big part, that hoped that the others would not come. They don't understand. They're all so heartless- Ah. Who am I to judge? I was the one who was about to kill an old man. My mask of hatred wavered for a moment, but I composed myself. My eyes narrowed. "They _will _come!"

"Well then. You'd better complete the task they have given you before they get here. It will only be harder with them watching, my dear boy".

And, despite everything, Albus Dumbledore smiled. His face folded into a maze of lines and his eyes twinkled, reflecting the green glow of the Dark Mark. I stood there in shock, unsure of how to proceed.

"Just as I thought. Draco...Draco, you are not a killer."

"How do you know? You don't know me!"

"I know that you are not a killer. They forced you into accepting this task, but you do not have to do it. Look at me, Draco."

"You don't know anything about me!" I flinched inwardly at the childish words that spewed from my mouth, but I continued, "You never gave a damn about me! All you cared about was Potter!" He spat out his arch-rival's name.

"That's not true...Draco…you don't have to do this…"

"I do! I've got to do it! He said he'll kill me if I don't…He'll kill my entire family!" I could feel my eyes filling with angry tears.

"Draco… Listen to me. It's not too late. You are not a killer. I can protect you, and your mother too, if you wish." He smiled again. "You really don't have to do this."

"I do!…I-I've got to… I have to…" But even as I said this, I was filled with doubt. What if he could protect me...and my family? I mean, could he really help me? Could I really escape from the Dark Lord? I could feel the tears sliding down my cheeks. I felt weak. My hold on Dumbledore's wand loosened, and it clattered to the floor loudly. It was then that I realised that the noise below had stopped. Dumbledore seemed to have realised this too, and so looked towards me desperately. Filling with dread, I knew the Death Eaters were surely on their way up to see if I had completed my task. It was all over. They would find me and make me finish him off…

"Come to the right side. We can protect you more fully than you could even imagine. But we must hurry, young man, your back-up will arrive soon. I think you will want to be gone before they get here."

"I don't…I-I... Can you?… Can you really?" My voice trembled uncertainly. Now I was presented with a choice; should I let Dumbledore protect me, or should I just wait for the other Death Eaters to come and finish him off themselves? Wiping my eyes, I tried to pull myself together .The headmaster slipped down the wall a little, clearly very weak. We both turned, hearing the sound of footsteps racing up the stairs outside the door.

"Yes. Yes I can. Now, we must be quick. You are sure this is what you want?"

I nodded resolutely, and Dumbledore reached for his wand that was resting on the floor at my feet. Uncertainly, I bent down and handed it over to him. He sent a pinkish jet of light towards the corner of the room. What's he doing? A small flash of colour allowed me to understand why there had been two brooms; Potter was hidden under his stupid cloak. How did I not guess? Of course the golden boy was with Dumbledore…

I felt frustrated then. "Potter. Should have known you'd be here." My voice was an angry sneer.

"You must go now. Both of you," the Headmaster said, as if what had happened merely minutes ago had never taken place. Potter dragged me under the invisibility cloak, and I shrugged away from him.

Dumbledore spoke. "For now, the two of you should return to the Gryffindor tower; I imagine it is safer than the Slytherin common room at this time. Do not take any detours. Stay there until I call for you, when it is safe. Stay under the cloak."

We made our way to the exit, leaving our Headmaster alone and weak against the Death Eaters.

But then the footsteps stopped outside the door...

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**Thanks for reading, Review? :)**


	2. The Betrayal

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter Two  
The Betrayal**

**Draco's POV:**

The two boys stopped, their breath caught in their throats.

Draco Malfoy trembled as the handle of their only exit began to turn, agonisingly slowly. He was terrified. There was only a door between them and the murderous Death Eaters on the other side. He knew they wouldn't be able to see him as he was invisible under the cloak, but that didn't mean he was safe. Fenrir Greyback had a nose for scared kids... Terrible memories came rushing back, of evil things he had witnessed. Evil things he had been forced to take part in. He had watched people suffer, watched people beg for mercy, and watched them die. Just like he was about to watch Dumbledore die...

"Shh, Malfoy. Breath any louder and they'll hear you." Potter said through gritted teeth. "Now, we need to get Dumbl-"

He was stopped by a spell that was cast their way, rendering them immobile. Draco watched as Potter's eyes went to his headmaster, his face trapped in a wide-mouthed expression. Dumbledore had slumped to the floor, the wand falling from his slackening grip. All three pairs of eyes turned towards the door as it was slammed open and four cloaked figures entered the room.

"Where is he?" snarled a horribly familiar voice, and Draco saw the glinting look of recognition in Potter's eyes. He could guess why. The woman the voiced belonged to was probably the most terrifying Death Eater he had ever met. She literally worshiped the Dark Lord. If he hadn't witnessed first-hand how devoid of emotion the Dark Lord was, he would have suspected she was a little more than just one of his followers. He had heard the rumours that Potter's godfather, Sirius Black, had be murdered by the awful woman that now stood but a few steps away. If he could move, Draco knew that Potter would have launched himself at the woman, attempting to avenge his godfather's death.

Draco wanted to leave the room and get as far away from these people as possible. The realization that he would have ended up as one of them, had he completed the task, was a sickening one, and one he knew would plague his mind for years to come. His attention was diverted back to the vulnerable old man that he had supposed to have killed.

"Good evening, Bellatrix."

Dumbledore looked so calm, just as he had when Draco first arrived, though Draco knew this was an entirely different situation. When it was just him, it was a confused, scared teenage against one of the most powerful wizards in the world. This was so different. This was one old, aged man against four strong, evil monsters who would not hesitate to rip him limb from limb.

Draco felt so helpless. With a start, he realised that for once, he was sharing Potter's own desire to help the old wizard.

"Expelliarmus!" A short, chubby wizard flicked his wand at Dumbledore. He seemed surprised when he saw that no wand flew from the headmaster's hand.

Draco had a strong urge to run, believing then that the Death Eaters knew he was there and that he had been the one who had originally disarmed Dumbledore. He tried to move his legs, but they remained resolutely frozen in place. He panicked, but realised there was nothing he could do.

"Where is he?" Bellatrix Lestrange demanded again, her voice becoming impatient "Why isn't he here?"

Draco's heart sped up. What if Dumbledore betrayed him? He knew he wouldn't do it intentionally, as he would not have offered to help him otherwise. Unless... Was it was a trap? No. He wouldn't do that. Potter trusted Dumbledore, so, despite his dislike for the boy, Draco felt that it must count for something. Dumbledore would also never do anything to hurt Potter, which would be the case if he betrayed Malfoy. But what if his name slips out? What if his blue eyes unconsciously drift over to where they stood, frozen and concealed?

"Who do you mean?" Dumbledore's voice was controlled and unnecessarily polite. Draco relaxed, letting out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding.

"If the boy's not here, maybe I could do it," snarled the biggest Death Eater, his voice dripping with bloodlust. He had an awful rasping bark of a voice; one that made Draco's insides shiver with fear.

"Is that you, Fenrir?" asked Dumbledore.

"That's right," growled the man. "Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?"

"Unfortunately, as impolite as it may sound, I cannot say I am."

Fenrir Greyback grinned, exposing yellowing, pointed teeth. Blood was smeared over his chin and lips, and he licked it, obviously trying to disgust the man before him further.

"Oh, but you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore. Shock you, does it? Frightens you?"

"Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me more than a little," Dumbledore admitted, his face dropping in a disapproving frown.

"I wouldn't miss a trip to Hogwarts. Not when there are so many young throats to be ripped out. Delicious." He raised a yellowing fingernail and picked at his front teeth, leering at the Headmaster. "Y'know, I could do you for afters, Dumbledore."

"No!" scolded another Death Eater. "That Malfoy boy was supposed to do it!"

"Well, do you see him here?" the werewolf barked. "I think I should show him wha-"

"No! If anyone gets to kill the old fool, it will be me. After all, I am his Lord's most valued and trusted follower." Bellatrix smirked. "I will be the one to vanquish the 'great' Albus Dumbledore."

Bile rose up in Draco's throat. He knew how much his aunt liked to play with her food.

At that moment, there was a sound of spells hitting a hard surface not far from the other side of the door, and a voice shouted. "They've blocked the stairs…Reducto! REDUCTO!"

"Hmm. I guess I should get it over with. Where's the fun in this? I was promised fun today." Bellatrix grinned wickedly, her eyes reflecting the evil in her soul. She went to raise her wand, but at that moment what remained of the door was thrown open once more and there stood Snape, his wand tightly clutched in his hand. His eyes swept the room. It felt, to Draco, that his Professor knew that he and Potter were there, unable to move or be seen.

"Eurgh, Snape. There's no need for you to be here, I was just finishi-"

But Bellatrix's whine was interrupted by a soft, pleading moan.

"Severus…"

The sound terrified the boys more than Draco would have thought possible. The fear in the wrinkled face was undisguised then, and Draco knew then that they were doomed. Surely, if even Albus Dumbledore could be brought down to such a level, then the rest of the wizarding world had no chance.

Snape said nothing. He walked forwards, pushing through the other Death Eaters. He stared for a moment at Dumbledore, revulsion and hatred etched into the harsh lines of his face.

"Severus… please…"

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at the old man in front of him.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A horribly familiar jet of green light shot from Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Both Harry and Draco were frozen, forced to watch as their Headmaster was blasted backwards. He seemed to hang there for a split second, suspended out of the tower window, before falling slowly backwards like a great rag doll, out of sight.

Snape surveyed the room quickly. "Where is Draco? He should have been here!"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and whined. "He wasn't here when we got here, so I'm guessing he wimped out. The Dark Lord will be...most displeased." She grinned widely and Draco felt a shudder run down his spine.

"Ah, fine then. Let's leave. Go!" Snape called, before glided out of the room, the other Death Eaters following quickly. The two boys were in such a shock over the turn of events they had just witnessed that it took a few moments for either to realize that the immobilization charm had been lifted.

**Harry's POV:**

Harry closed his eyes for a brief second, trying to process what had just happened. He could not believe that his Headmaster, one who had been like a grandfather to him, was dead. Every cell in his body was screaming in anger towards Snape. He wanted to make Snape pay for what he had done. Without thinking it through, he slipped out from under his father's cloak and raced down the stairs in pursuit of him. Ignoring several calls of his name, Harry could think of nothing but making Snape feel worse than he could ever have felt before.

He ran blindly towards the Entrance Hall, and almost ran into the doors that were still swinging heavily inwards from Snape and the Death Eaters' flight. He pushed them open again, stepping out into the warm summer air. Glancing over the grounds, he could make out the Death Eaters retreating to the gates of Hogwarts. He could recognize his potions master easily, his robes flowing out behind like billowing smoke. He was falling behind the others, limping as if he had been hurt. Harry smiled, realizing it would be easier to catch up to him than he had thought. The fact that Snape was hurt added to his satisfaction.

"You!" Harry shouted.

Snape turned around, shocked. Harry's eyes glazed over. He sent a string of unpleasant curses at the older man in front of him, but the Professor blocked each one easily with a lazy flick of his wand, smirking. A sudden wave of pain rolled over Harry, threatening to pull him into the blackness. He fell to the ground and writhed uncontrollably. Forcing his eyes open, he looked over at Snape, but found him staring at one of the other Death Eaters, rage and anger clear on his face. Harry made himself face the recipient of the angry stare, and saw that it was him who was torturing Harry, not Snape.

"No! He belongs to the Dark Lord, you fool!" Snape bellowed, and the pain subsided, freeing Harry from its clutches.

This angered Harry even more, and he clambered to his feet. He thrust his wand towards Snape and screamed. "Sectum—"

Snape narrowed his eyes. He flicked his wand and Harry's spell was repelled once again.

"How dare you use my own spells against me, Potter? Just like your filthy father! You disgust me!"

Harry thought for a moment. "Wait...You… you're the Half-blood Prince?" he shouted in disbelief. Snape smirked, lifting his wand again to point at Harry.

"Go on then," said Harry, "Kill me. Kill me like you killed him!" He closed his eyes as the Death Eater opened his mouth to do the deed.

There was a bang and Snape's wand was blasted into the air, falling a few feet away. As he scrambled over to pick it up, Harry was filled with rage.

He pointed his wand directly at Snape at shouted, "Cruc-" But before he could finish the curse, a hand grabbed his wand arm and pulled it down. Harry gasped, turning around. He saw no one there; he must have imagined it. As he turned his wand and attention back to Snape, the grip tightened on his arm.

"What do… you think you're… doing, Potter?" Malfoy was panting, he had been running as fast as he could to catch him up.

"He…he killed him. He's dead…Dumbledore's dead..." Harry mumbled, watching Snape retrieve his wand and flee through the school gates. He tried to fight Malfoy's grip, but he did not relent.

Harry felt separated from the world; he couldn't think. He couldn't feel anything at all. He hardly noticed that he was walking back up to the school, with Malfoy of all people. As he got closer, he noticed a slumped figure near the bottom of the tallest tower. It was Dumbledore. He felt sick then, and disbelief coursed through his body. Just thinking about the crumpled body that lay, broken and lifeless, made him feel as if he was under the Cruciatus curse. His footsteps slowed, almost as if not seeing the body would make the truth less real. Eventually, he managed to make his way to the body, falling to his knees from combined exhaustion and grief.

The old man's face was white and still, frozen into a half scared, half resolute expression. The twinkle that usually sat in his eyes was gone, and Harry knew that he would never see it again. A single, hot tear rolled down his face and splashed onto the half-moon glasses that had slipped from the bridge of Dumbledore's nose. Harry closed the headmaster's eyes and replaced the glasses. He remembered something then.

His numb fingers found a pocket in the dead man's robes, closing around something cold and metallic. He pulled the locket out and placed it carefully within his own robes.

The night lit up as the great doors of Hogwarts opened. Large groups of teachers and pupils spilled into the night. Harry noted that Malfoy had remained a respectful few steps back. The crowds gathered and he heard several piercing screams and the sobs of many.

He looked back at the peaceful face of his headmaster, and he fell into darkness...

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**As I said before, the story will no longer be in Draco Malfoy's point of view. It may switch between focusing on Harry and Draco, but will not be in first person.**

**Thank you to my beta, ToxicRainfall for being awesome :D**

**Also, thank you to everyone who reviewed, faved and put my story on alert :D I won't list everyone on here, but I will make sure I reply to each review. And of course to everyone else who reads this ****:)**

**Review? :)**


	3. The Decision

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter Three  
The Decision**

~~~~Last time~~~~~

His numb fingers found a pocket in the dead man's robes, closing around something cold and metallic. He pulled the locket out and placed it carefully within his own robes.

The night lit up as the great doors of Hogwarts opened. Large groups of teachers and pupils spilled into the night. Harry noted that Malfoy had remained a respectful few steps back. The crowds gathered and he heard several piercing screams and the sobs of many.

He looked back at the peaceful face of his headmaster, and he fell into darkness...

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**Harry's POV:**

Harry woke up feeling refreshed. He'd had a long, deep sleep, undisturbed by nightmares. He felt more energized and alive than he had for a long time. It wasn't until he put on his glasses and realised he was in the hospital wing that the memories from the previous day came flooding back; the cave, Malfoy's tear-stained face, Snape's betrayal, Dumbledore's body lying at the base of the tower...

Trying to banish the images from his mind, Harry looked around the room. Malfoy was two beds down, sleeping. His heart sunk when he noticed a crowd gathered around a bed – a bed occupied by a red-headed boy. As Harry craned his neck, trying to see which Weasley it was, Lupin turned around and noticed that he was awake. He said something quietly to the others, before walking over and sitting on the edge of his bed. Harry noticed with guilty relief that Ron was one of those around the bed. His best friend was safe.

Lupin smiled sadly. "Hey, Harry. Are you feeling okay?"

But before he could answer, Ron and Hermione had made their way over to him and interrupted.

"How are you? We were so worried!" Hermione said, trying to hug Harry. Ron held her back, however, and smiled sheepishly at Harry.

Harry smiled faintly. "I'm fine…" he reassured them, but the sadness he felt was apparent in his voice. "I just can't believe it…H-He's really gone..."

"I know, mate." Ron patted Harry's shoulder gravely.

Lupin placed his hand on Harry's covered knee, and the three friends turned their attention to their old teacher. "I know this may not be the best time, but we have some important matters to discuss." Hearing this prompt, Tonks and Professor McGonagall made their way over. Glancing at the now unobscured bed, Harry leaned up onto his elbows and tried to make out the figure that lay sleeping in it.

"Who's that?" Harry asked, pointing at the bed where the boy was lying, being tended to by Madam Pomfrey. "Is he ok?"

"That's Bill. He had a run in with Fenrir. But don't worry, he's okay. There wasn't a full moon, and so Fenrir wasn't transformed when he attacked him," Lupin explained.

"Oh." Bill was one of the Weasleys Harry knew the least about, except for Charlie, but he still felt sorry for Ron's family. Bad luck seemed to be attracted to them like a magnet.

"Anyway," McGonagall started, "although I understand that none of us are really up to talking in light of these terrible events, I feel that we need to discuss the matter of Mr. Malfoy. It is clear he had an important role in this, but I must ask: Why was he with you? Why did he not leave with the other Death Eaters?" Harry winced at the assumption she had made, but the teacher did not notice. "Who…who was it?" she finished, her eyes filling with tears.

"You mean…Dumbledore?"

She nodded.

"It was...It was Snape."

A loud crash drew the attention of everyone to Madam Pomfrey, who had dropped the bowl she was carrying. It had smashed, and glass littered the floor. Harry stared at fragments, that glittered in the weak sunlight, unable to meet the eyes of those around him.

"What? Did I hear you correctly?...I can't believe...Not Severus..." McGonagall put her hand to her head in disbelief.

"We…we saw him running behind the Death Eaters, we thought he was on our side. We though he was trying to help," Hermoine sniffed. "Dumbledore...he _trusted_ him. How could he do such a thing?"

"I don't know" Harry answered quietly.

"I never liked him. He was always such a…" Ron started, unable to find the right word. "Ah, yeah. A greasy git."

Hermione scolded him. "Really, Ronald, I don't think this is the time for that."

Lupin sighed. "Although I do agree with you Ron, we need to address the current problem. What do we do with him?" He pointed to the bed where Malfoy slept, curled up on his side. He looked so young, and so fragile that Harry actually felt sorry for him; something he never thought he would be capable of doing.

"I don't see why we need to do anything," Ron grumbled. "Why do we have to do anything? We saw him with the Death Eaters. It must have been him who let them in. It's his fault! Why do we have to help him?"

Harry looked at him, but didn't know how to explain. It was Malfoy's fault, but not his choice. He was forced to do it, and that counted for something in Harry's eyes.

Lupin put his hand on Harry's shoulder, and looked him in the eyes. It was such a fatherly gesture that Harry felt it would be hard to hide anything from him then.

"Harry, we need you to tell us exactly what happened up in the tower. I know it's hard, but the information is important and may be essential to our future decisions".

Harry sighed, thinking of a way that he could explain what had happened without revealing why he and the headmaster were there, and why Dumbledore was in such a weakened state. The teachers, at least, were bound to ask, and he didn't feel as if it was information that he should reveal. Dumbledore had confided in him, not the teachers, so it didn't seem right for him to tell them either.

"Well, Dumbledore and I were in the tower, as you already know," he began.

"What were you doing there?" McGonagall asked abruptly

"We'd seen the Dark Mark, and so Dumbledore wanted to ...uh...see it up close. To check if it was...um...real," He answered, trying to avoid answering the question properly.

"Then Malfoy came in." He saw Ron and Hermione nervously glance over to the bed where Malfoy lay, as if he was about to suddenly jump up and try to hurt them.

"We saw him – he was walking along the seventh floor...He must have been using the Room of Requirement. That must have been how he got the others in! But we lost track of him after that. He used some of that Instant Darkness Powder that Fred and George have been selling. But then he had that horrible shrivelled arm of his, so obviously he could see…" Hermoine said, very quickly. "We searched around for a bit, but then we heard noises at the bottom of the staircase that leads up to the tower. We couldn't get up."

"We tried to get up there too, but there was some sort of magical barrier preventing us. I don't know what it was," Lupin explained. "That's why we weren't there to help". He sounded sad, as if blaming himself for not being able to penetrate the magical barrier the Death Eaters had created and for not being able to save Dumbledore.

"What happened then?" Tonks prompted Harry to continue.

"Well…Malfoy disarmed him."

"He used 'Expelliarmus'? Why didn't he counter?"

Harry closed his eyes. He did not want to tell them the truth. He felt like it was his fault. If he wasn't there, if Dumbledore hadn't wasted those few seconds silently immobilizing him, he could have protected himself. He may still be alive.

"He – he had immobilized me. I don't know what spell it was. It wasn't just a stunning spell." He was looking down at his hands.

"I see...Well, what then? What did Malfoy do?"

"Well, they were talking for a bit. I can't remember exactly what was said, but he could tell that Malfoy was upset and reluctant to carry out his task".

"His task? You-Know-Who sent a child to kill Albus Dumbledore?" McGonagall interrupted, shocked.

"He wasn't supposed to actually do it. I think Voldemort," they all flinched at the name, "intended for him to fail. It was a punishment for his father's failure at the Ministry." He stopped suddenly, feeling again the loss of his godfather at the Ministry. He could feel his eyes watering, tears threatening to spill.

"So that is what has been bothering him all year. I could tell he was distressed about something,, but I thought it was just his father's imprisonment that had him worked up. I couldn't ask him, I knew he would never dream of confiding in me," McGonagall said.

"Dumbledore offered him protection, and his mother too. He said his father would be safe in Azkaban for now. Malfoy accepted his offer. Then Dumbledore told us both to leave under my cloak". He felt guilty for telling them this; it seemed, to him, that he was telling them personal things about Malfoy. About his weakness. But he knew that whatever he told them would affect their decisions, so he had to tell them the truth. Regardless, he felt like he was betraying the other boy – he remembered his tear stained face, his distress – it was like a window into what he was really like on the inside, behind the Slytherin façade.

"We were going to go, even though I didn't want to leave Dumbledore there, alone. But he told us to go, and so we couldn't disobey. But before we could leave, the Death Eaters came in. And then so did Snape...and then...and then...he _did_ it. They left then, and I went down to the bottom of the tower as soon as I could. Malfoy came with me," he explained, leaving out his pursuit of Snape. He would tell Ron and Hermione later, but he didn't want the adults knowing about the potions book and the 'Half-blood Prince'. He was glad he'd left it in the Room of Requirement. It horrified him that he had been so fond of an object that once belonged to such an evil man. It made him feel tainted He had been drawn in by the power and had misused it – he still remembered Malfoy on the bathroom floor, blood everywhere…

"Hmm, I see. Well, I don't think we have much of a choice on the course of action. If Dumbledore offered to give him protection, then that is what we have to do. After all, it is the duty of the Order of the Phoenix to protect those in need. And I daresay, the boy needs protection. You-Know-Who will not be happy when he discovers his change of heart," Professor McGonagall said, Tonks nodding in agreement.

"But what do we do with him? Take him back to Headquarters?" Lupin asked. "Are you sure we can trust him?"

"No!" Ron shouted. "He's not going anywhere near my house!" Harry was confused for a moment, but then remembered that the Headquarters had been moved to the Burrow, as they had been unsure of the safety Grimmauld Place.

"Ron…" Hermione said, but he ignored her.

"He hates us! He's always been cruel to us! So why should we let him stay with us? What has he done for us?"

"Ron. We can't leave him with nowhere to go. Voldemort will kill him," Harry said.

"I don't want him in my house. How do we know this isn't some sort of plan? He might be a spy. We can't trust him". _Typical Ron, _Harry thought._ As stubborn as ever.  
_  
"I think we can trust him. Why would he go through all this when there are much more experienced people who could spy on us? Like Snape?"

"I understand your feelings, Ron, but it's not your decision," Lupin explained. "It is up to your parents. Anyway, I trust Harry's decision. We can't let old rivalries get in the way".

Harry felt touched that Lupin trusted his judgment. "I think we need to contact Molly and Arthur," Lupin added.

"No need to," Tonks said, gesturing to the bed at the end of the room, where Bill lay asleep. "They should be here any minute".

As if on cue, Mr and Mrs Weasley entered the hospital wing, followed by Fleur Delacour, Bill's wife-to-be. The adults left Harry's bedside to explain the situation, leaving Harry alone with Ron and Hermione.

"Oh, Harry, I can't believe this," whispered Hermione. "But you know you can tell us the whole story, right? Including the bits you left out."

Harry sighed; of course the gaps in his story would not have gone unnoticed by Hermione. He began to tell them the full story, including the part about cave and the Horcrux, as well as his discovery that Snape was the Half-blood Prince.

"I knew it! I told you that book was evil, didn't I?" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yeah, you did. But you never believed me when I said that Snape was," Harry replied, a little bitterly. Hermione looked hurt. Harry apologised immediately. It wasn't her fault that Snape had murdered Dumbledore. He just wished he could have figured out Snape's plan sooner, before it had been too late.

"I still don't get it," Ron said, easing the tension. "Why did you stick up for Malfoy? He's such a git! He was going to kill Dumbledore!"

"But he didn't," Harry countered.

"But he was going to."

"He didn't want to. He was forced to. But he didn't do it in the end, did he? He accepted Dumbledore's offer."

"He might have just said that because he's a coward. Doesn't mean he's truly on our side," Ron said, refusing to see any goodness in Malfoy.

"You weren't there. You didn't see him." Harry wanted to tell them how upset Malfoy really was, but he didn't think it would be fair on the other boy.

Ron snorted, but before he could reply, his mum called him and Hermione over. Ron stormed off, grumbling, and Hermione followed after him, muttering a quick apology to Harry.

Harry slumped back down, trying to get comfortable in the hard hospital bed. He was glad that Malfoy was asleep; he wouldn't have wanted him to have heard their conversation; the arguments, the insults, and Harry's sympathy for the Slytherin. He turned on his side, facing away from the large crowd that was gathered around Bill's bed. He yawned and pulled the bedcovers up to his chin. His eyes fell on Malfoy's grey eyes, which were staring at him with a mixture of confusion and faint amusement. With a jolt, Harry realised he must have been awake the whole time...

* * *

**Thanks for reading, and thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved or put my story on alert :D**

**A big thank you to my beta ToxicRainfall, she is awesome :) **

**Review?**


	4. The Plan

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter Four  
The Plan**

~~~~~Last time~~~~~

Harry slumped back down, trying to get comfortable in the hard hospital bed. He was glad that Malfoy was asleep; he wouldn't have wanted him to have heard their conversation; the arguments, the insults, and Harry's sympathy for the Slytherin. He turned on his side, facing away from the large crowd that was gathered around Bill's bed. He yawned and pulled the bedcovers up to his chin. His eyes fell on Malfoy's grey eyes, which were staring at him with a mixture of confusion and faint amusement. With a jolt, Harry realised he must have been awake the whole time...

* * *

**Draco's POV:**

That afternoon, Professor McGonagall came to talk to Draco about what he was going to do over the summer. She was unaware that he already knew. How could they have expected to sleep through their whole conversation, with Weasley shouting like that?

"Hello, how are you feeling?" she asked.

When he said he was fine, she sighed. "We have decided where you are going to spend your summer. You will go to the Burrow, the Weasleys' home and currently the headquarters for the Order. You will be joined by Miss Granger, and various Order members will come and visit often. You must be on your best behaviour. Mr and Mrs Weasley are taking a very big risk letting you stay with them, but I assure you, it's very safe".

"What about my mother?" he asked, curious as to why she hadn't been mentioned.

She looked away. "I'm afraid her current whereabouts are unknown, but members of the Order are currently searching for her. It is likely she may have gone into hiding, which is why we cannot find her. I am sure she is safe, you don't need to worry".

Draco nodded, though he did not feel reassured.

McGonagall continued. "You will be leaving tomorrow, after the funeral. You must stay in here tonight, and then in the morning a teacher will escort you to your dormitory to collect your belongings".

She left whilst he was still processing the information. Why he was not allowed to go to his dormitory that night confused him for a moment, but then he realised it would be an extremely foolish thing to do. The sons and daughters of Death Eaters would be in there, and whilst they are not necessarily as extreme as their parents, it would not be the best idea. But then, they didn't know what he had done. The other Slytherins did not know that he had joined the other side, so why couldn't he go in there? Then he realised; it's because they don't trust him. That's why McGonagall did not say where Potter would be going in the holidays. Surely he would be joining them? It seemed likely that she left out that piece of information in case he told the others.

Draco was sitting on the Hogwarts Express, dreading the coming summer. He had to go to the Weasleys' house. He had to stay there for the whole summer! How was he supposed to survive? He had never seen it personally, but his father said it was falling apart and far too small for the large family. He would miss the large, spacious rooms of Malfoy Manor, and the surrounding land in which he could go flying. He pictured the large library which he usually spent most of his time in…

Maybe it wouldn't too bad if the others treated him the same as they had for the last couple of days. He was forced into sharing a compartment and spending the journey with the three Gryffindors that had been his rivals but a week before. He had to wear Potter's invisibility cloak, for safety. Draco didn't understand how Potter had managed to obtain such an item. They were rare, and extremely expensive. He was secretly glad that he was forced to wear it. The others acted as if he wasn't in the room, although he could tell they were painfully aware of his presence. They steered clear of any topics they didn't want him to hear about.

Draco was staring out of the window, watching Hogsmeade station get smaller, until it finally disappeared. He wondered what would happen next year, and what he would do. Would he be allowed back into Hogwarts? Would he be allowed to stay in the dungeons with his fellow Slytherins? Then he realised; it wouldn't be as easy as that anymore. News of his disappearance will spread and he will be considered nothing more than a traitor. He wondered if he'd ever see the castle again.

Almost as though he could hear Draco's thoughts, Potter said, "It feels so strange to leave knowing I'm not coming back". Weasley looked shocked, but Granger didn't even look up from the book she was reading.

"But Hogwarts might not close! I know they were talking about it, but we won't be in any more danger there than anywhere else, will we?"

"Even if it does re open, I'm not coming back", Potter replied.

Draco stared at Potter curiously, wondering why he wasn't going to return. Maybe he was '_The Chosen One' _after all. Draco smirked to himself, but he listened intently to the continuing conversation.

Granger peered at them over her book, "I knew you were going to say that". Draco was unsurprised. The mudblood seemed to know everything. "But where will you go?".

Potter paused, and for a moment Draco though he wasn't going to answer. It wouldn't be the best idea to give the son of a Death Eater information on where his location will be over the summer, even if the person has switched sides. But then he said, "I have to go back to the Dursley's once more, until my birthday, like Dumbledore said last year. When I'm 17 I'll go and" - he glanced nervously in Draco's general direction, not quite knowing where he was sitting – "find the rest of them."

The rest of them? The rest of what? Draco was not usually a nosy person, but this had definitely caught his attention now. What was he looking for? What was so important that he risked his education for it? Potter glanced nervously at the empty space he believed Draco was in again, with a look that suggested he'd said too much. However, he clearly needed to discuss the matter with his friends, so Potter continued, wording what he said in a way that Draco would not be able to guess what he meant.

"That's what he wanted me to do. If Dumbledore was right, then there's still four left."

There was a long silence, and Draco thought maybe Potter's friends hadn't understood his selective wording either. But then Granger said, "You're going alone? I don't think so. We're coming with you, Harry."

"What?" Draco smirked. That Potter was such a typical Gryffindor. If it's something that important, his friends aren't going to let him do it alone. Especially not his _noble, brave, daring_ friends. He was glad that they couldn't see him making a face at the idea.

"We're coming with you."She looked to Weasley for confirmation, and he nodded. "Of course, we know we can't come with you to your Aunt and Uncle's, so you'll have to come to the Burrow for a little while you decide on what we're going to do next".

"Besides, you'd have to come to the Burrow anyway first," Weasley said.

"Why?" Potter asked.

"Bill and Fleur's wedding, remember? Mum would kill you if you didn't come".

"Oh right, I forgot."

Draco frowned. He hoped he wouldn't have to attend any wedding of a Weasley. They all jumped as a ringing noise signalled their arrival at King's Cross station. It was time to go their separate ways.

"Oh, Harry, I'm going to miss you!" Granger shrieked, hugging him.

"Bye, mate. See you soon", Weasley said.

For a moment it seemed like he was going to ignore Draco and walk away without saying bye. Not that Draco cared, but he felt that Potter should at least show some manners. A Malfoy always knows how to act in public and never forgets his etiquette. Draco thought of some of the things he had said to Potter and his friends. Well, maybe he wasn't the nicest of people, but surely the 'great' Harry Potter would at least be polite? But just as he was thinking this, Potter looked at Draco and mumbled a quick goodbye, before turning around and walking towards the exit. For a moment, Draco was confused as to where Harry was going, as he had walked straight past the other happy parents and children, but then he noticed the three uncomfortable looking people who were standing as far away from the other parents as they could, as if they believed that the others were infected with some sort of nasty, contagious disease. They looked rather unpleasant. Surely they weren't Potter's Aunt and Uncle? Although they were muggles, Draco was sure that they must worship 'The Chosen One', just like almost everyone else did.

It was hard for Draco. Seeing the awful looking muggle family he had to go back to, almost everything he believed about Potter had been proven wrong. And he was confused.

Draco was pulled out of his daze when Granger and Weasley began to walk off, towards a group of red-haired people who he recognised as the Weasleys. 'Red hair, freckles and more children than they could afford': he remembered his fathers words from a few years ago. He shook his head, then decided to set off after them.

Draco's first few days at the Burrow were everything he had expected. The house itself was almost falling apart, not to even mention the fact that it was far too small. It was nothing at all like Malfoy Manor, where he himself had grown up. The size of the Weasley family made the house seem even smaller, especially with the addition of him and Granger. They didn't even have any house elves! Of course, Draco no longer had Dobby, but the other one was still there.

Draco kept mostly to himself, emerging from the room he was staying in only for meals. At first he tried to avoid the others at all costs; he even tried to skip breakfast the first morning. But Mrs Weasley ordered him to come down and made a fuss, insisting he ate something. He had nothing to do in his room, except to read. He had never read that much. Sure he read at home, but now it was all he seemed to do. He would perch on the inside window ledge with a book, imagining he was outside, flying above the surrounding fields.

_Little did he know, Harry Potter was miles away, doing the same thing. The black-haired boy would waste hours staring out of his window, imagining himself flying high in the sky, he longed to feel the wind on his face, the adrenaline rush, the freedom of the open skies… _

Every few days, various members of the Order would show up. Draco did not know who most of them were, but he recognised some of them, including Mad-Eye Moody, who he couldn't help but dislike. He knew that the teacher who had taught him in his fourth year was not the real Moody, but the ferret-incident was not easily forgotten, and so he could not find it in himself to forgive the grizzled old man.

When the other adults turned up, Draco was always sent out of the kitchen, along with the Weasley kids. He had a feeling that if he wasn't there, the others would be allowed to take part in the meetings. But he reasoned that they couldn't let the others join in and not let him, not without an explanation. He knew why, of course – they didn't trust him. It was obvious; conversations end abruptly when he entered a room, hushed voices talked behind his back and narrowed eyes would follow his every move...

Draco didn't let it get to him. It made his dislike of the Weasleys stronger. What kind of people talk about their guests behind their back in such an undignified way? He couldn't wait to tell his father how rude they had been. Oh...but he couldn't, could he? His father was locked up, alone, in Azkaban and his mother was Merlin knows where. Sure, they were on the wrong side, against their own son (at least until the Order finds them), but they were still his parents and he felt great respect and love for them. He felt tears well up in his eyes, and he tried to blink them away.

Draco felt a tear roll down his pale cheek, and he looked up, confused. In his thoughtful daze he had forgotten where he was – in the Weasley's small kitchen. He noticed the twins were also there, huddled in a corner, and he was glad that they hadn't noticed him. He wiped the tear away before arranging his features into a nonchalant expression.

Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen, followed by a woman he hadn't seen before. Her hair was a bright bubblegum pink; a colour his mother would never approve of. He felt a pang again, and made to leave the room, but was stopped by Mrs Weasley.

"Draco, dear, where are you going?" Mrs Weasley was always very polite. She reminded him of Dumbledore. She was the only one living at the Burrow who talked to him, with the exception of Fleur, but he didn't count her as she was so absorbed with her wedding plans that she could have been talking to a wall and not noticed.

"I was going to my room," he replied, a trace of annoyance in his voice. At home, he was never questioned about what he was doing. His parents respected his privacy.

"Could you stay here for a minute? We've got some things we need to talk to you about".

"Okay." He sighed. He really didn't feel like talking to anyone right now. He craved the privacy and comfort of his room.

Mrs Weasley left the room, saying she needed to meet the others who would be arriving soon. The twins had also left, which meant that Draco was alone with the pink-haired stranger.

"Wotcher, Draco," she said. "I forgot you would be here."

He looked at her, wondering if he had seen her before. He was very sure he hadn't, he could see nothing in her face he recognized.

Realising that he was confused, she added, "I'm Tonks. Your cousin".

"Oh, really? On what side?" He asked, surprised at this revelation.

"Your mother's. Narcissa's. Did she ever tell you about her sister, Andromeda?"

Draco thought hard. "No. I don't think so."

"Didn't think she would have. They stopped talking to her because she ran away and married a muggle. Andromeda is my mother, making us-" she gestured towards herself and Draco "-cousins."

Now that he knew the connection, he could see a little of his mother's features in the strange young woman. Were her eyes not the exact same shade as Mrs. Malfoy? Didn't her eyebrows arch in the same way? He felt another pang then, but not for the discovery of his long-lost cousin. The thought of his mother made him sad. He wondered if she was okay, if she was safe.

Feeling awkward in the presence of his cousin, he scuffed his feet on the kitchen floor, looking at the ground in silence. He really didn't know what to say, but fortunately Mrs Weasley returned at that moment with a group of other people.

"Draco, take a seat, please" She said, in a soft voice which Draco had learnt to recognise as signalling bad news to come. He sat down on the nearest chair, and the others did the same. He scanned the crowd, wondering what the news was. Was it his mother? Or his father? Or something else entirely? No-one was looking at him, but he was used to this. Since the death of Dumbledore, no-one proved capable of looking him in the eye. He lowered his eyes to his hands, not wanting to hear what was coming.

He looked up to find Remus Lupin, one of his old Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, looking at him.

"Mr Malfoy, I'm afraid we have some bad news", he shuffled in his seat, looking nervous, before continuing. "We have some new information about your parents".

Draco said nothing, staring at the older man in shock. _Oh no. What happened? Please don't let them be dead_, he thought.

"Your father – he escaped from Azkaban".

"What?" Draco asked, astonished. How in the world had he managed that? Why would he want to? Leaving the prison would mean that he would be vulnerable to attack from the Dark Lord in light of Draco's failure, and betrayal.

"It appears there has been a mass breakout. You-Know-Who got the dementors on his side, so after that it must have been easy. But that's not it." He looked at Draco once more. "He found your mother. They both went back to _him_ – your mother reluctantly, from what I've heard – and he punished them.

Draco looked down at the floor. "Are they…alive?" he asked, not sure if wanted to know the answer.

"Yes, they are. But they've both lost their wands".

Draco shivered. He was glad they were alive, but losing your wand could be a terrible thing. He had never been longer than an hour or two without his wand, but he had hated the feeling. What would it feel like to be entirely wandless, and therefore completely defenceless against the world? It must be horrible. He felt guilty, knowing his parents were suffering whilst he was safe. He especially felt for his mother, who he knew didn't want to go back to the Dark Lord to begin with. That's why he had accepted Dumbledore's offer; not to protect himself but to protect her. Sure, she'd never sympathised with Dumbledore's cause either, which was unsurprising considering her family, but at least it would be better.

Everyone's attention was then diverted by the arrival of a tawny owl that had flown in through the open window and dropped a letter by Mrs Weasley. She opened it, reading aloud:

'_Dear Molly, We've got a problem with the plan. We're one short; Dung's disappeared again. Knew we couldn't trust him not to run off. I'll be arriving soon to discuss the options. – A. Moody.'_

"What! Now what are we going to do? We're one short," Lupin said, his usually calm voice sounding panicked.

"One short for what?" Draco said, then immediately regretted it. Why would they tell him?

But to his surprise, Lupin answered. "We're one short for the guard to escort Harry. Mundungus – the guy you met yesterday - has ran out on us again."

"Ran out?" A witch whom Draco had never met before said, "What if he's giving away our information?"

"He won't be, don't worry. He's just a common thief, nothing more. Doesn't have it in him to be a spy. I don't think he'd betray us, anyway," Lupin replied.

It was quite remarkable how Lupin trusted everyone, Draco thought. But it was lucky, he was one of the only people who actually talked to Draco. He wouldn't have if he thought he was going to run back to the Dark Lord at the first available opportunity, like everyone else seemed to think. Not that he liked the man – he was a _werewolf_, but it was nice to have someone who didn't pretend he didn't exist.

"I'll do it." Draco said carefully, realising that it would be a good opportunity to prove himself. He was sick of everyone avoiding him all the time. Not that he wanted their company, but it still annoyed him. Plus, he had grown tired of the house, he longed to be away from the place.

"Absolutely not!" Mrs Weasley screeched.

"Look, I know you don't trust me, but I need to prove that you can, right? If I'm going to be staying here for a while, you can't keep having to hide everything from me".

"I don't think she meant it like that," Lupin said, smiling.

"Huh?"

But before Draco could ask what he meant, the door opened and in came Mr Weasley, followed by Mad-Eye Moody. Moody surveyed the room. When Draco felt his creepy eye on him, he suppressed a shiver. Luckily, his eye did not linger on Draco. He grunted, satisfied, and hobbled over to a seat, where he sat down awkwardly.

"Have you sorted it out already? Is that why _he's_ here?" Moody asked, gesturing to Draco. Much to Draco's discomfort, his magical eye swivelled in its socket and stared at him.

"Yes," replied both Draco and Lupin, and Mrs Weasley shouted, "No!"

"Don't tell me you actually care about the boy, Molly? You know he could have killed Dumbledore." Moody frowned at the plump woman.

Draco was confused. Did the Weasley woman actually care about his safety? Although he would never admit it, he felt touched by her concern. Mrs Weasley smiled warmly.

"Well, of course! The poor dear had been so good and well-behaved. I won't have him flying off, risking his life!"

"Well, who else is there then? Unless Ginny…"

"No! Okay, okay, he can go if you think it's a good idea." She smiled sadly at Draco, but he understood. He wanted to do it anyway, and so her desperation to keep her daughter safe was fine in his eyes. But the tone in her voice...did it mean that this 'plan' would be dangerous? The idea frightened yet excited Draco at the same time. Whilst he didn't want to get hurt, least of all for _Potter_, he didn't mind what he would have to do, as long as it got him out of the house. He recalled then that Mrs Weasley had mention flying...maybe he'll get to ride his broom again! He smiled inwardly at the thought.

"Well then, it's settled," Mad-Eye said.

He described the details of the plan to Draco, who began to look forward to the prospect of the wind on his face, as well as the feeling that he was doing something worthwhile. Something good for a change.

Moody finished explaining. He got up from his seat. "We'll be leaving tomorrow, so make sure you're prepared".

As the other witches and wizards left, Draco found himself trapped between Mrs Weasley and his exit. She turned away from saying farewell to her guests, and noticed him standing there, alone. She stepped over to him and patted him fondly on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, dear. I'm sure you'll be fine tomorrow. If it counts for anything, I trust you."

She wished him a goodnight then, and so Draco went up to bed. He slumped onto his bed and pulled the cover over his eyes, attempting to hide the grateful tears that threatened to spill...

* * *

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, faved or put my story on alert :) And a biiiig thankies to ToxicRainfall, my Beta :D**


	5. The Flight

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter Five  
The Flight**

~~~~~Last Time~~~~~

As the other witches and wizards left, Draco found himself trapped between Mrs Weasley and his exit. She turned away from saying farewell to her guests, and noticed him standing there, alone. She stepped over to him and patted him fondly on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, dear. I'm sure you'll be fine tomorrow. If it counts for anything, I trust you."

She wished him a goodnight then, and so Draco went up to bed. He slumped onto his bed and pulled the cover over his eyes, attempting to hide the grateful tears that threatened to spill...

* * *

**Draco's POV**

Draco was so full of nerves and excitement that he hadn't been able to eat a single bite of Mrs Weasley's cooking. He was thrilled that he was going to fly again (he had missed it dearly) and whilst he felt it was the perfect thing to break the monotony of life at the Burrow, he was also nervous. He knew that their plan was very risky and anything could go wrong. It was bad enough that he was a traitor who was currently staying with the Order of the Phoenix; and that was without Harry Potter added to the mix – the stakes would be high.

When it was finally time for them to assemble in the garden, Draco's stomach felt as though it was doing backflips. Everyone was disguised using disillusion charms, so there was no risk of being spotted by muggles.

To everyone's relief, the journey to Surrey was uneventful and danger-free. Draco was genuinely happy for the first time in months. He was in his element. The air was the only place he felt free, where nothing mattered. Up in the air, there was no-one to care who you were or where your loyalties lie. It's so different from the normal world. Draco was so lost in his own thoughts and the feeling of calmness that he almost missed the cue to start descending.

**Harry's POV**

Once Harry had finished giving Hedwig a bitter final tour of the house he was about to leave for good, he had nothing to do but sit and wait impatiently. He had been informed that a member of the Order would be arriving to escort him by side-along apparation, so when he heard a loud rumble and what sounded like a dozen voices, he snatched up his wand and sprinted out of the back door. He was shocked to see a group of thirteen wizards standing in the Dursleys' garden.

He didn't know why they were there, or that the plan had changed. He could just feel himself grinning stupidly. He had missed his friends a lot. Hermione ran forward out of the crowd, hugging him with almost enough force to knock him over. Ron was standing behind here, wearing an identical grin to Harry's. After Hermione let go, he surveyed the crowed, wondering why so many of them were there.

"What are you all doing here?" he asked.

"Shh. Not out here, go inside, go inside," a voice he recognised as Mad-Eye Moody growled, walking towards the open door.

Everyone followed. Harry stood by the door, watching everyone walk inside.

First were five of the Weasleys; Ron, the twins and Bill, who were accompanied by their father. Trailing behind Bill was Fleur Delacour, following by an annoyed looking Hermione. Then there was Lupin and Tonks, who were holding hands, and then Kingsley Shacklebolt. Hagrid squeezed himself through the door with a low grunt, and was followed, finally, by Draco Malfoy, who looked extremely out of place in his aunt and uncle's home. He was wearing muggle clothes, which did not suit him in the slightest. Some members of the group were holding brooms, which were left leaning against the brick wall of the house. Remaining in the garden were two Thestrals, which unfortunately reminded Harry too much of his fifth year and his godfather's death for him to like them, and a huge motorbike – which Harry recognised, with a jolt, from old dreams which now seemed like a lifetime away.

Harry tore his eyes away from the bike and headed into the kitchen, where everyone was sitting. They were clustered either on chairs, the table or the kitchen counters. Harry smiled to himself, thinking about how Aunt Petunia would have a fit if she saw them. Some of those who had never been in a muggle kitchen before, especially Mr Weasley, were examining the various appliances which lined the counter tops with curious expressions.

Moody turned to face Harry, who closed the door behind him.

"Right. So there's been a change of plan. The Ministry haven't made it easy for us. It is now illegal to connect this house to the Floo Network, create a Portkey or apparate in or out of here."

"So what are we going to do now?" Harry asked, who couldn't see a way around the problem.

"Haven't you noticed, Potter?" Moody swivelled his magical eye to the garden where the brooms, bike and Thestrals waited. Harry immediately felt silly; it seemed obvious that they would be flying.

"The plan is simple. We're using the only forms of transport that can't be tracked by the Ministry. No-one will know where we'll be going." He continued filling Harry in with the details. When he was finished, Harry was shaking his head.

"It's dangerous! What if - "

Moody cut him off, "Everyone here is prepared to take the risk. Now, some hairs, please, Potter. If you're unwilling to cooperate then I'll have to take them by force".

Harry reluctantly pulled out some hair and dropped it into a grey, lumpy potion that gurgled in a container before him.

**Draco's POV**

It was time to go, and Draco felt extremely nervous. He wasn't told before that he would be partnered with Mad-Eye Moody. He couldn't help but think this piece of information was deliberately left out. He knew that Moody was a skilled auror, and so, coupled with the fact that he was unpopular amongst the ranks of Death Eaters, would mean he was likely to be one of the first attacked if it came to a fight.

"One…two…three…go!" Moody shouted.

As they rose into the air, Draco's hands tightened around the broomstick. His body felt strange. He was not used to wearing glasses, and his wand felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable in his hands. He hoped it wouldn't be a disadvantage if it came to a fight.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he heard gasps and screams of surprise and fear coming from all around him – they were surrounded. At least thirty hooded Death Eaters surrounded them, in a large circle around the space precisely where the Order members and fake Potter's had risen unknowingly into the air. Curses were flying everywhere, but Moody flew fast, weaving in and out of them and sending his own spells back. More than once, jets of sinister green light passed them, but Moody somehow managed to escape them at the last possible second. Draco was sending stunning spells everywhere he could and they had broken out of the circle. He could hear a Potter behind him shouting, and he wondered who had been hurt.

Moody pushed the broom onwards as several Death Eaters broke away from the circle and pursued them. He could see the motorbike flying not too far from him. The two safe houses they were heading for must be near each other. He could see the real Potter sending his own jets of red light at his pursuers, like Draco himself was doing. Draco stopped suddenly, seeing a jet of green light heading towards the real Potter.

The Death Eaters following Draco and Moody took advantage of the momentary gap in their defence, and sent a killing curse straight at Moody. Moody was blasted forwards, taking the broom with him. Draco screamed, clutching his wand tightly as if it were a lifeline, and he fell out of the sky, towards the ground hundreds of feet below…

Draco closed his eyes, waiting for the impact. But instead, he felt arms wrapping around him, pulling him sideways. He felt his head hit something cold and metallic, which forced his eyes open in shock. Blinded with pain, he heard the sounds of more curses being cast. He felt useless, unable to see properly, frozen with fear, he clutched the body in front of him with all the strength he could muster.

His vision finally cleared and he found himself on the flying motorbike, squeezed onto the seat behind the real Harry Potter, who was currently throwing curses at the few Death Eaters who were still chasing them. One of their hoods fell down, but Draco did not recognize the ginger man's face under it. He was about to send a curse after him, when Potter yelled a disarming charm, followed by cries of "It's him! It's the real one!"

Surprisingly, the Death Eaters fell back, and Hagrid was trying to make the bike go faster. Draco felt relieved, not caring why they had stopped, just glad that they had. Potter had his hand on his forehead, but Draco thought nothing of it.

Then, suddenly, _he_ came out of nowhere.

The Dark Lord was flying, impossibly, without any broom or Thestral or any other magical creature holding him, his long fingers tightly clutching his raised wand.

"Avada - "

Hagrid screamed, pulling the bike into an almost vertical dive. Draco matched the scream with one of his own, arms wrapped tightly around the boy in front of him. He closed his eyes, wanting to see neither the Dark Lord nor the rapidly approaching ground. He saw a flash of bright golden light through his closed eyelids, but something told him it wasn't going to hurt him. He opened his eyes a fraction, to see Potter using a spell he had never seen before, but Potter's face looked just as confused at Draco felt.

Draco felt himself passing through what felt like a giant bubble, then he heard an ear-splitting crunch and felt a wetness, before everything went black...

* * *

**This one was a bit shorter than the others, but I thought it was the best place to end it.**

**Thanks for reading, and especially thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved or put my story on alert :D **

**A big thank you to my beta ToxicRainfall, she is awesome :)**

**Review?**


	6. The Accusation

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter Six  
The Accusation**

~~~~~Last Time~~~~~

"Avada - "

Hagrid screamed, pulling the bike into an almost vertical dive. Draco matched the scream with one of his own, arms wrapped tightly around the boy in front of him. He closed his eyes, wanting to see neither the Dark Lord nor the rapidly approaching ground. He saw a flash of bright golden light through his closed eyelids, but something told him it wasn't going to hurt him. He opened his eyes a fraction, to see Potter using a spell he had never seen before, but Potter's face looked just as confused at Draco felt.

Draco felt himself passing through what felt like a giant bubble, then he heard an ear-splitting crunch and felt a wetness, before everything went black...

* * *

**Draco's POV**

Draco awoke to the sound of Potter's raised voice, along with another he didn't recognise. His heart sped up as he remembered what had happened, and it took him a few moments to realise where he was and that he was safe.

His body ached all over and his arm tingled, as if it had just been fixed with magic. He sat up, his head swimming, and looked around the room. Potter was standing with a slightly chubby man, in front of a woman who looked horribly familiar. Draco was about to say something, when a sharp pain went through his arm, forcing him to cry out.

"Are you okay?" the woman asked, but her voice sounded nothing like the cruel, harsh tones of his aunt Bellatrix. He didn't answer for a moment as he could feel the polyjuice potion wearing off and his features were changing back to his normal appearance.

"Who are you?" she asked, her tone harsher than before. He could hear a shadow of Bellatrix in it.

"Draco – Draco Malfoy," he replied, her astonishment clearly visible.

"What are - ?" she started, but Potter had come over and so she closed her mouth abruptly.

"It's okay, Mrs Tonks, he's on our side," Potter said, reassuringly. She did not look like she believed him.

Mrs Tonks? So _this_ was Andromeda Black. This is Tonks' mother. And his aunt … He sat there for a moment, staring at the woman. He knew it was rude, but he didn't even notice he was doing it. It felt so strange to think that his mother had grown up with this woman, that they had spent their childhood together. The thought of his mother gave him another twinge of pain, but this time it was nothing to do with his arm. At the sight of his face, she told him to lay back down, and called her husband over to look after him.

**Harry's POV**

Whilst Ted Tonks was busy talking to Malfoy, Andromeda walked over to the other side of the room, where Hagrid was resting. She made sure they were out of earshot, before motioning for Harry to follow. He hesitated for a moment before following.

"Do you really think it's wise to trust Draco?" she asked in an urgent whisper.

"Yes," he replied; he knew it wasn't exactly true, but in the context of her question it was. He was annoyed that no-one trusted his judgment. Would they get the same reception back at The Burrow?

"It's just...his family – well, this sounds like the type of thing they would do; seek out information to try and get back into You-Know-Who's good books."

"They already had a spy in the Order." He sighed. "Look, you don't understand – he doesn't want to be part of this war any more than you and I."

She gave him a long, hard look, before nodding her head slowly. "Well, okay. I suppose he _is_ my nephew. I do want to trust him, of course. You just don't know my sisters and Lucius as well as I do. What if it's too late? What if Draco has already become like them?" She paused for a moment. "But, if you truly think we can trust him, then I will say no more. Anyway, it's time to get ready to take the Portkey to the Burrow."

A short while later, Harry, Malfoy and Hagrid were surrounding the Portkey. Harry was supporting Malfoy, who was very shaky on his legs; whether from shock or pain he did not know. He felt it wise not to ask. Hagrid looked much better than he had when they crashed, although he still looked terrified. The Portkey, a hairbrush, glowed blue and then they were spinning uncontrollably through nothingness. Before long, the trio slammed into the floor, where Harry's knees buckled and he fell over, taking Malfoy down with him.

**Draco's POV**

Draco felt Harry fall, and he too crumpled to the ground. He could vaguely hear voices and screaming, but it all sounded as though they were coming from a distance, or as if they were on the other side of a thick window. He felt strong hands pulling him off the ground and dragging him towards what looked like a strange, wonky tower. He felt as if he had just woken from a weird dream, still half-asleep. A voice echoed through his head, sounding odd and distorted, though he was sure it was saying, "Are you okay?" He groaned as his body was lowered onto a soft surface. Thinking back to the question, he opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. Something was thrust into his hands. The object was rounded, but he couldn't think of what it was. However, a hand guided the object to his mouth and a liquid was poured down his throat.

Slowly, his surroundings came into focus and his thoughts became more coherent. He saw he was lying on a sofa in the living room of The Burrow, with Potter kneeling by his side, the vial of liquid in his hand. Draco sat up, his head now feeling fine, and was about to say something when the sound of raised voices came from outside. He got to his feet shakily at the same time Potter stood up, and together they went back out into the garden.

In the garden was Lupin, holding up a ginger boy who was covered in blood. Draco could see it was one of the Weasley twins, though he had no idea which one. Potter ran forward and together they carried him inside. Draco followed as Lupin and Harry placed the twin on the sofa Draco himself had just lain. Looking exhausted, Lupin straightened up and pulled his wand from his pocket.

"You – "he said, pointing it at Harry. "What creature was in the corner of my office the first time you visited?"

"A – a Grindylow," Potter stuttered, afraid of the wand pointing at him.

"Sorry, Harry, I had to check," Lupin said apologetically, before switching his wand to Draco. "What did your Boggart turn into during our first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson together?"

Draco glanced at Potter and could feel himself growing red. He mumbled. "A Hippogriff." He saw Potter raise an eyebrow, but he did not say anything. Lupin lowered his wand.

"Sorry, it's just that _they_ knew. I don't know how, but they did," he said, his voice grim. "We may have a traitor in our midst."

Draco saw Potter's mouth open to say something, but before he could voice his opinion, three more people burst into the room. In the front was Granger, returned entirely to her normal appearance and wearing clothes that were too big for her small frame. Her eyes widened at the sight of the unconscious form of the twin. Behind her trailed Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mrs Weasley.

**Harry's POV**

"What happened to George?" Hermione asked, her voice full of concern.

"Snape's work," Lupin replied bitterly. "_Sectumsempra _was always a favourite of his at school. Rumour has it he invented it himself".

Harry saw Malfoy look up at him, his shock clearly shown on his face. Their eyes met; he knew were both remembering the same incident. Harry looked away first, it hurt him so much that he had injured another person so badly, maybe even had scarred him forever. To think that he ever used that book seems foolish, especially after Riddle's diary. To think that he had tried a spell, unverified by the Ministry, without knowing what it could do. Without knowing if it could hurt someone... It seemed so naïve of him to ever trust the book. He had hurt Draco Malfoy as much as Snape had hurt George.

Feeling ashamed, Harry was about to return outside when he heard the sound of more shouting. Mr Weasley burst into the room, the door bouncing back from the wall. Behind him was a white-faced Fred, and both of them were looking at the unconscious boy in shock. George began stirring feebly, everyone anxiously crowding around the sofa. Harry took the opportunity to slip away into the kitchen, unnoticed by almost everyone. He sat down at the table, his head in his hands. It was his fault. It was _all _his fault that the people he cared about were being hurt. If he wasn't around, surely they'd be safer?

**Draco's POV**

Draco watched everyone crowding around the bed of the injured boy and felt very uncomfortable and out of place. He craved the comfort of his small bedroom upstairs, but to leave now would be disrespectful. He was still hovering around by the front door, wondering what to do, when he noticed Potter slipping into the kitchen. Hesitating briefly, he followed. He felt he _had_ to know why Potter had used that _Sectumsempra _spell all those months ago, and how he had found out how to use it if it was really Snape's own creation. Now seemed the perfect opportunity to ask.

"Potter?" he said, and the boy jumped, not noticing that anyone had followed.

"Malfoy," he said coolly, and Draco could tell from his tone that although he said he trusted him, he hadn't forgotten how nasty Draco had been him and his friends.

"You used Snape's spell." He saw Potter register the question. First he looked shocked, and then his face changed into a defiant expression.

Draco sighed, realising the boy wasn't going to answer. "There's no point in denying it. I heard what Lupin said. Has it got something to do with what you were shouting at him...at Snape...y'know...at – at the end of last year?"

Potter seemed reluctant to answer.

"Yes," he answered eventually. When Draco raised an eyebrow, he elaborated. "I found one of his old textbooks. It had writing in it...little spells and ways of improving potion-making...I saw the spell, and I – I used it. I didn't know what it did." He mumbled the last part, looking down at the table.

Draco didn't know what to say. Was Potter trying to apologise? He hadn't really thought that Potter might not actually have intended to hurt him so badly. It never occurred to him that Potter would never use such a dark spell if he knew what it really did. He wanted to reply, but didn't know what to say. He was spared from answering by Lupin coming into the kitchen.

"Boys." His tone was urgent. "I think you need to come back into the living room."

Draco looked over at Potter. If he was confused at the urgency of the request, he did not show it. Draco sighed quietly to himself before walking through the open door. He had only just stepped into the room when a voice asked harshly, "Where's Mad-Eye?"

It took him a moment to understand the question. Amongst everything that had happened, he had almost forgotten about the Auror. Apparently, no-one else had noticed either, until the eldest Weasley boy had brought it to their attention.

"He – he got hit," Draco muttered, not meeting anyone's eyes. He could tell that everyone was staring at him. The realisation struck him: they thought that it was his fault.

"How did you tell them?" Bill Weasley demanded.

"Bill!", several voices cried.

Draco could distinguish Mrs Weasley's above the rest. "Do you honestly think he told them?"

The eldest Weasley boy sighed angrily. "Someone did, and logically, it's most likely to be –"

"It wasn't him," said a quiet voice. Draco looked around to see Potter still standing in the doorway next to him. It felt strange to have Potter defending him, but he felt a small flash of gratitude towards his old rival. Draco saw everyone's eyes shift to him instead.

"If it was him, Voldemort wouldn't have gone for them, would he? He would have told _him_ that he was with Moody, and the Death Eaters wouldn't have attacked them." He looked around the room and added, "Malfoy nearly fell, too."

The room fell silent at that. Potter had a good argument.

"Look, Mad-Eye is dead. It was no-one's fault. Well, no-one who is in this room. Instead of bickering, we should have a toast in honour of Mad-Eye and the valiant way he fought," Mrs Weasley said, breaking the silence. A bottle of firewhiskey and several glasses came flying out of the kitchen.

"To Mad-Eye," she said.

Grumbling awkwardly, Bill Weasley grabbed a glass and joined in. Seeing that the matter of a possible traitor had been put to rest for the moment, everyone else, including Draco himself, took a glass and followed their lead. A chorus of somber voices called out.

"To Mad-Eye!"

* * *

**ToxicRainfall for betar-eading for me :) Also a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed!**

**Oh, and I wasn't sure if I said, but this story is not going to change too much from the normal plot. The storyline will be pretty similar as it has been so far, so hopefully that won't be a problem :)**


	7. The Secret

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter Seven  
The Secret**

~~~~~Last Time~~~~~

"To Mad-Eye," she said.

Grumbling awkwardly, Bill Weasley grabbed a glass and joined in. Seeing that the matter of a possible traitor had been put to rest for the moment, everyone else, including Draco himself, took a glass and followed their lead. A chorus of somber voices called out.

"To Mad-Eye!"

* * *

**Harry's POV**

Harry awoke early the next morning, his scar burning. Echoes of Ollivander's tortured screams still played in his head. It took him a few moments to shake the frail voice away and remember what Voldemort had been saying in his dream. Voldemort knew that Harry's wand had somehow performed its own magic; he knew it was not impossible. He also now knew just how strong the connection was, and that using another's wand did not help - but what does it mean? Perhaps the connection is not between the two wands, perhaps it exists between _them. _But why? Harry lay in bed for what seemed like hours, but could not decipher any more meaning from it.

The next few days passed far too quickly for Harry's liking and he was hoping to use the time to plan before leaving the safety of the Burrow. However, the antics of Mrs Weasley prevented anything of the sort. Mrs Weasley kept them busy with preparations for the wedding, which were usually tasks that meant he was separated from his friends. When she had no choice but to allow them to work together, she asked Malfoy to tag along and help; an arrangement neither of them were pleased with. She insisted it was so they could get to know each other, but Harry was not fooled. He suspected she had an ulterior motive.

Several days passed until he found himself alone with Ron and Hermione. The three of them were sorting out the master bedroom, ready for Mr and Mrs Delacour's arrival the next morning, before the wedding. Taking advantage of their situation, they all broke out into hurried whispers.

"Where do you think we should go first? I was thinking, maybe – " Hermione began thoughtfully.

"Do you know where any of them are - ?"

"Or what they are?"

Harry had to think for a moment before answering. He hadn't been expecting to be bombarded with questions.

"Except for the real locket, I'm not quite sure. I do have a few ideas, though." He paused, expecting Ron or Hermione to interrupt, but when neither did, he continued, "Dumbledore thought that he might have used other objects from the founders. So I was thinking that maybe something of Hufflepuff's, Gryffindor's or -"

"Gryffindor? Why would You-Know-Who make something of Gryffindor's into a horcrux?" Ron said, forgetting they were supposed to be quiet. He covered his mouth in shock, as the door opened and Malfoy walked in.

"Mrs Weasley said I have to help you," he said emotionlessly.

The three of them, now joined by Malfoy, went back to working in an uneasy silence.

**Draco's POV**

Draco was in his temporary room, enjoying the few hours of solitude in which Mrs Weasley had not found any chores for him to do. He found it extremely tedious; he had never worked so hard in his life. Back at Malfoy Manor, the house-elves did all of the cleaning and other household work. He couldn't understand why Mrs Weasley was trying to get him to spend so much time with the other three. She said it was so they could get to know each other, but he suspected a different motive. But what was it? He had noticed how she had been trying to keep them separated, though he had no idea why.

He was becoming frustrated. He hadn't minded it that much at first, but since Potter came everything had been different. The three of them kept whispering to each other when they thought no one could hear them. When he had walked in on them, they were talking about something called horcruxes…Draco knew he had heard that term before, but could not remember where. What did it mean?

Draco's musings were interrupted by Mrs Weasley's voice, calling him and the others down for dinner. Reluctantly leaving his room, he went downstairs, to find no-one in the kitchen. Confused, he peered out of the window to find everyone sitting along a large table, on top of which was what looked like a giant golden snitch. _Oh yeah_, he thought, _it was Potter's birthday_. How could he forget? Earlier that day, Potter had come down to breakfast, receiving many congratulations and gifts, whilst Draco didn't know what he should do. He had mumbled a quick 'Happy Birthday' before going upstairs to his room.

Draco pushed the door open and went outside, stopping when he realised the only seat left was at the end of the table, next to Potter. Hesitantly, he sat down, noticing that Mrs Weasley, who was sitting opposite him, was staring worriedly at the gate. He looked around, wondering why, when a silver animal – a weasel, perhaps? – glided into the garden and spoke in the voice of Mr Weasley, 'The _Minister for Magic is coming with me', _before vanishing. Draco was staring, surprised, at the place where it had disappeared into wisps of smoke. He had never seen anything do that before.

"Oh dear," Mrs Weasley cried, getting off her seat and walking over to him. At the same time, Lupin and Tonks said quick goodbyes and left the garden.

Mrs Weasley towered over him. "Quick – I'd better disguise you," she said, whilst tapping his hair with her wand and muttering under her breath.

"That should do it," she said, admiring her work. Draco's blonde hair was now slightly longer, and a fiery red colour. His face was now dotted with a multitude of freckles. The Minister would not doubt that he was a Weasley. "If he asks, your name is Barry," Mrs Weasley added, before hastily returning to her seat.

The gate opened. Draco's head whipped around to see the Minister for Magic walk in. He looked exactly as Draco remembered, having met him several times when he and his father would accompany him somewhere. His father had liked to acquaint himself with top Ministry Officials. He walked towards them with a slight limp, with Mr Weasley following behind with a perplexed expression on his face.

"I would like to speak to Mr Ron Weasley, Miss Hermione Granger and Mr Harry Potter," the Minister announced impatiently. "Privately. Let us go into the house." He began walking towards the house, not bothering to check to see if they were following him, knowing they would not disobey his authority. Draco saw the three of them throw each other confused looks, but they all got up and followed the man back into the house.

"What do you think he wanted?" Mrs Weasley asked her husband, a worried tone in her voice. "You do think it's safe, don't you?"

"I think so," Mr Weasley said quietly, but he did not sit down. He remained standing, facing the house so he could enter immediately if it sounded like trouble.

Those remaining in the garden sat in silence, not wanting to start eating without the trio. Draco looked around at those sitting around him, all of whom were wearing puzzled expressions. After a few minutes, Draco could hear the unmistakable sound of raised voices coming from the house. Mr Weasley responded immediately, rushing forwards and disappearing into the house. He returned a little later, with Potter, Weasley and Granger, Scrimgeour limping along behind them, looking thoroughly disappointed and annoyed. Without another word, he slammed open the gate and left.

"What did he want?" Mrs Weasley asked, her curiosity showing clearly in her voice.

"To give us the contents of Dumbledore's Will," Granger said, sniffing. She showed Mrs Weasley the book she was clutching in her arms. "I don't understand what any of them mean, though."

The three items were passed around the table; Draco particularly liked the snitch, although he could not understand why the former Headmaster had given them. Potter dismissed suggestions that the Snitch would respond to flesh memories, saying he had already touched it and nothing had happened. The Deluminator was also interesting, although Draco could not see how it did anything except for turning lights on and off. The book, to him, seemed pointless. Most wizard children already knew the stories in them, and he was sure that Granger _must_ have read them before. After the interest in the objects died down, Mrs Weasley summoned the food and they all began to eat.

That evening passed quickly, and before Draco knew it, the first day of August had arrived. He was not looking forward to the day ahead. He had always disliked big events like weddings, preferring to keep to himself. He had dealt with the birthday dinner okay, but it had only been a small affair compared to the wedding that was bound to have lots of guests. He would have preferred to be back in his bedroom, even if it meant he would be re-reading 'Hogwarts: A History' for the third time since his arrival at the Burrow. Instead, he found himself with Potter and the twins, outside the wedding tent, disguised and wearing robes which were slightly too short for him. They had previously belonged to Percy Weasley, who he had been surprised to discover had abandoned his family for the Ministry. He was disguised in the same fashion as the day before.

The wedding ceremony itself was simple and short, but Draco knew he had to stay for the party afterwards as well. He kept out of the way of the other guests most of the time, and found himself sitting alone at a table, watching the dancers. He thought back to the Yule Ball a few years ago, thinking of how different the situation was. Everything had changed so much since the Dark Lord came back.

His memories were interrupted by the arrival of a girl with waist-length dirty blonde hair. Draco felt as though he recognised her from school, but could not think of her name.

"Hello, I'm Luna. Are you a relative of Ron's?" she asked in a vague, dreamy voice.

"Yes," he said, hating that he had to pretend to be a Weasley.

"I thought you were," she said, smiling. "We live just over the hill. It was so good of them to invite us. You look young, do you not go to Hogwarts? I've never seen you before."

Draco did not know how to answer this, but luckily he was saved by the arrival of a very eccentric looking man, who was unmistakably a relative of Luna's. He put his hand on the girls shoulder. "Come on Luna, we'd better go home," he said, his voice bitter. The two of them walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

Once again, Draco found himself alone. Unfortunately, it did not last long; Granger had come over.

"Oh, hello," she said, much too politely. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Draco was very confused at this, wondering why she was being so friendly to him. The explanation was clear when she continued to speak. "Harry? What's wrong?"

"Er – Hermione?" the real Potter said, appearing behind Granger.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, blushing. "Sorry – "

But the rest of her speech was lost as a large, silver animal glided into the garden, and, as Mr Weasley's had done, began to speak. It's voice was identical to Kingsley Shacklebolt's.

"_The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_

There was a split second of silence, where the guests processed the information. Many were gazing, shocked, at where the silvery animal had been moments before, and Draco was one of them.

Then came the screams. People on all sides were crying out and many others were disapparating. Draco could hear Granger's panicked voice beside him screaming, "_Ron! _Where are you_?", _and a voice replying, 'I'm here!" Draco looked around in shock, just as a dozen hooded, masked figures forced their way into the garden. Draco yelled out in shock, and, turning to run, tripped on a discarded bottle of Butterbeer. Fortunately, someone had caught him before he hit the floor. He felt a strange sensation of spinning as he was pulled into darkness.

Then light reached his eyes again and he was standing in a street, far away from the Burrow…

* * *

**Thanks to my lovely Beta ToxicRainfall for beta-reading for me :D**

**It would be nice to have a few more reviews, a short 'I like it' is better than nothing :)**


	8. The Tapestry

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter Eight  
The Tapestry**

~~~~~Last Time~~~~~

Then came the screams. People on all sides were crying out and many others were disapparating. Draco could hear Granger's panicked voice beside him screaming, "_Ron! _Where are you_?", _and a voice replying, 'I'm here!" Draco looked around in shock, just as a dozen hooded, masked figures forced their way into the garden. Draco yelled out in shock, and, turning to run, tripped on a discarded bottle of Butterbeer. Fortunately, someone had caught him before he hit the floor. He felt a strange sensation of spinning as he was pulled into darkness.

Then light reached his eyes again and he was standing in a street, far away from the Burrow…

* * *

**Harry's POV**

Harry saw that Malfoy was about to trip before he even did himself. He ran forward to steady the stumbling boy, but just as he did, he felt a hand grip his own arm. A horrible, suffocating feeling followed, and he span through darkness. Harry could do nothing but to grasp Malfoy's arm and hope the feeling would stop soon.

Bright daylight erupted in Harry's eyes, and he felt himself blinded for a moment before he adjusted to the scene around him. He was standing in the middle of a crowded street, but he quickly realised that none of the passing muggles had noticed the sudden appearance of four teenagers. He saw then that his hand was still gripping Malfoy's arm, and so he hastily let go before either boy could get embarrassed. At the same time, Hermione released her grip on Harry's arm and she sent a surprised look at Ron, who was glaring at Malfoy.

"What's _he _doing here?" Ron said angrily. "Why did you follow us?"

"Ron, calm down. Harry grabbed Draco, not the other way around," Hermione said.

"Yeah, she's right, it's my fault," Harry said, humbly. "Malfoy was about to trip, so I caught him. It just so happened that Hermione grabbed to apparate at the same time. He had no choice but to come with us."

Ron didn't reply, clearly at a loss about what to say. They decided then that they should go somewhere else, and so the four of them began to walk along the street in an uneasy silence. Hermione was looking around nervously, and then stopped suddenly.

"Ah, lets go down there," Hermione said, walking off towards a dark alleyway. "Quick – we should get changed. I'll find your clothes – Draco, I'm sorry, but I don't have any clothes for you. You could borrow some of Harry's- Actually, I think you two should go under the cloak. You're more recognisable than Ron and I."

"But I don't have it," Harry said, looking apologetic.

"It's okay, I've brought everything. I've got it in here," she said, pulling out the folded cloak from a beaded bag. "I used an extension charm," she added, in response to Harry and Ron's questioning looks.

Malfoy, who had looked annoyed since they had arrived, slipped under the invisibility cloak without a word. Harry wondered why he hadn't complained – but, he reasoned, what would be the point of moaning or arguing? There was nothing they could do about the situation. They were stuck with each other whether they liked it or not. Which meant, Harry realised, that Malfoy would have to find out about the Horcruxes.

The four of them, with Harry and Malfoy concealed, left the alleyway and continued down the street. Hermione was frantically whispering about where they should go.

"Why can't we just go back?" Malfoy grumbled, although Harry was sure that the other boy knew the answer and just wanted a reason to moan.

"We have something to do," Harry said carefully. "It's really important. No-one else is allowed to know about it."

"What is it?" Malfoy asked, apparently unsure whether or not it was his place to ask.

"Um…" Hermione mumbled, throwing a look at Ron. When he didn't catch her hint for help, she added hesitantly, "…it's something to do with Voldemort."

Malfoy nodded, seeming to realise that nothing more should be said on the matter considering their current situation.

Harry and the others continued walking at a steady pace, unsure of where they should go. They made their way down the street, and it almost made them feel as though they had a destination in mind. Harry wanted to go Grimmauld Place, but Hermione dismissed the idea knowing that Snape had access to it, and that he had probably told the other Death Eaters. He wanted to see the house again as it was his one remaining link to his deceased Godfather. On the other hand, he wasn't sure if he wanted to show such a personal part of his life to Malfoy, who had been his rival for the last six years.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted when Malfoy suddenly put his arm out, gesturing for Harry to stop. Harry, in turn, reached out from under the cloak to stop Hermione just as two men in muggle work-clothes stepped out from the crowd in front of them.

"They're Death Eaters," Malfoy hissed at Harry.

"What? But they're wearing Muggle clothes," Ron interjected, confused.

"I know them. The blonde one is called Dolohov, and –" Malfoy was cut off as the bigger man looked up and stared directly at Ron and Hermione. They made to pull their wands out from their pockets, and the four teenagers ran towards the nearest side-street. They had just rounded the corner when a jet of red light streaked passed them and hit the building opposite. Harry looked behind him, but fortunately there were no muggles in sight. Their two pursuers shot a green light over Ron's head, and Harry whispered quickly, "Grimmauld Place." He waited for Ron and Hermione to disappear before grabbing Malfoy's arm and disapparating himself.

Harry had only managed to successfully side-along apparate once, and as he felt himself and Malfoy jerk away from the street, he was suddenly fearful that they wouldn't make it. The darkness seemed more compressing than ever before, and it took all of his strength to hold on to Malfoy. Closing his eyes against the darkness, a brief thought flickered in his head – _would it be possible to get stuck and lost in the darkness? _But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Harry felt his feet slam onto solid ground and he was standing on the bottom step in front of Grimmauld Place.

Staggering for a moment, he looked around, relieved to see Ron and Hermione nearby, and no Death Eaters in sight. The invisibility cloak has slipped off and was on ground at Malfoy's feet. They all looked at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say, before nodding slowly, turning and marching up the steps of the old house.

**Draco's POV**

Draco's stomach was still churning even after his feet had met solid ground. He was sure it was a feeling it would take a long time to get used to. He followed the others towards an ancient house, and was confused when he saw that the door handle was shaped like a snake. He had no idea where they were, but knew that he would find out soon enough. Stepping into the house, he paused as the three friends stopped in front of him. He took this opportunity to look around, and saw that next to the door was what appeared to be part of a troll's leg and strange looking artefacts lined the walls. He thought that the house must surely have belonged to dark wizards, and it had a very unlived-in feel. Whomever owned the house had been long gone. So why were they here? What did this old house have to do with Potter?

"Where are we?" Draco asked, noticing that they seemed reluctant to go further into the house. He jumped as a voice he recognised as belonging to Mad-Eye Moody rang out through the darkness, as if he was speaking from beyond the grave.

'_Severus Snape?'_

Draco jumped back and he felt a strange sensation on his tongue, just as something white and ragged rose from the far end of the entrance hall and drifted towards them. As the ghostly figure of Albus Dumbledore drew closer, Draco took a startled step backwards, his back slamming into the heavy wooden door. He knew the figure couldn't be real, but it still gave him a fright.

"I – I didn't kill you," came Potter's panicky voice, and the figure vanished into the air.

Looking around to ensure nothing else undesirable appeared, he stepped forwards and disappeared through a door to the right. Seeing Potter's friends follow him, Draco remained where he was, surveying the hallway. The house must once have been grand, but had clearly seen the best of its days. Looking closer at the artefacts residing in the cabinets and shelves, he noted that there were many empty spaces and that those that remained were coated in a thick layer of dust. Opposite the beginning of the stairs was a large curtain, hiding what he presumed was a door. Peering across the hall, mounted shapes lined the wall at the end, and he realised, with an uneasy feeling, that they were the heads of house-elves.

A creaking sound made him jump, and so he pulled out his wand to turn and face the source. Luckily, it was only Potter, coming back out through the door he and his friends had vanished through earlier. Potter looked at him curiously, and Draco expected the other boy to ask him to come into the room with them, perhaps paranoid that they could not trust him. But Potter did not speak, and instead just looked at Draco as he stood awkwardly in the hall.

"Do you want to look around?" Potter asked, seeing Draco's curiosity.

"Uh, yeah," Draco replied, before asking the question he had wanted to ask since their arrival. "Who's house is this?"

"It's mine," Potter replied, continuing when he saw Draco's confused face. "It was my Godfather's, Sirius Black. He grew up here, but no one had lived here for quite a few years. Well, not until the Order of the Phoenix used it as their headquarters."

"Oh," Draco said, unsure of how he should react. Potter looked as though he was in pain when he talked about his Godfather, and so Draco decided to walk towards the staircase, half expecting Potter to follow him. But he was wrong.

Potter did glance at him for a moment, the pained expression still on his face, and he gestured to the floor length curtains opposite the stairs.

"Just one thing: don't open those curtains," Potter said, before returning through the door behind him.

**Harry's POV**

Harry shut the door behind him, to meet Ron's angry glare.

"Why are you being so nice to him? He doesn't deserve it!"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Harry cut across her, not wanting her and Ron to fall out.

"There's no point in arguing. None of us can change the situation now, anyway. Besides, he didn't come with us intentionally, did he?"

"I know he didn't mean to come with us, but where is he now? How do you know he's not somehow communicating with his little Death Eater friends?" Ron said, his voice increasing in volume. "You left him on his own. Who knows what he could be doing?"

Harry didn't know what to say to that, and for a moment, he just watched Hermione pulling sleeping bags out of her small bag.

"Ron," Harry said, unsure of how to answer properly. He didn't exactly trust Malfoy, but he didn't think as badly of him as Ron appeared to. "He just wanted to look around. We can't always keep him near us. I mean, how would you like it if you had to hang around with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle all of the time?"

"I wouldn't," Ron replied indignantly, his ears going red.

"Exactly. We just need to put up with him. It's probably just as bad for him too, y'know?" Harry said, but Ron did not seem convinced.

"Well, I still don't understand you. After the way he's treated all of us, I don't see why should we make his life comfortable!" Ron was almost shouting now. "After all those times he's tried to get us into trouble! After insulting both of our families, and calling Hermione a You-Know-What? And he tried to get Hagrid fired! And Buckbeak-"

"Ron, I know…"

"How can you just forget all of that? How can you stand to be around him…?"

"Ron…"

"Well, we can't all have _your _restraint, I guess. We can't all be as humble and forgiving and…"

"Ron…"

Ron turned away, his ears red. Harry could tell he regretted his sudden outburst, but had no desire to stay and make up just yet. Harry just turned around and slipped through the door in order to cool off. He walked slowly up the stairs, taking one step at a time. Part of him wanted to turn around and tell Ron he wasn't really angry with him, but he was too embarrassed now that he'd left. He realised there was only one thing to do: find Malfoy.

Harry peered in all of the rooms he passed, noting that each one looked a terrible mess. The beds were stripped of their covers, books had been thrown off their shelves and small objects were carelessly strewn across the floor. He had never really looked in any of the bedrooms before, but, somehow, he knew for sure that they were not in this state before. Someone had been here. He briefly wondered who it may have been, but just then he reached the drawing room door and pulled it open. Malfoy was standing, staring at the wall, an unreadable expression on his face.

He did not turn around as Harry entered the room, and instead continued staring at something on the wall in front of him. As Harry drew closer, he recognised the thing of interest to be the tapestry that depicted the Black family tree. He remembered Sirius showing him it a few years ago. Malfoy's expression was similar to how his Godfather's had been, and Harry realised it was bitterness. He was confused; he had thought that Malfoy liked his family roots. After all, he was always bragging about being a pureblood and how he was related to most notable wizarding families. So why was his expression so full of bitterness and– and could that be a hint of disgust?

"Malfoy?" Harry asked, taking another step forwards.

Now he could clearly see the faces on the tree. The burned smudge where Sirius' face had once resided, next to that of his brother, Regulus, stuck out to him like it had the first time he'd seen it. He had never really thought about it before, but it seemed so…pitiful that a family that had worn its name with such pride was now finished. All its members were either deceased or had married into other families, thus losing the name 'Black'. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to Malfoy, who was staring at a small section of the tapestry.

"What's wrong?" Harry didn't know why he asked, as he already had an idea what could be wrong and knew Malfoy would not answer. They stood there for a few minutes, Harry unsure of what to say and Malfoy lost in his thoughts.

It seemed like an eternity before Malfoy broke the silence.

"I don't want to be part of it anymore."

Harry considered the words, realising that he had been right in his assumption. He was surprised, however, that Malfoy had spoken these words aloud.

Harry frowned.

"You don't have to be. Who you're related to doesn't make you who you are," Harry replied, thinking of his Godfather. Sirius had gone against his family's beliefs and wishes, defying them, before moving out to live with Harry's father, James.

"Father always told me I am who I am because of my family," Malfoy said quietly.

Harry did not reply, but Malfoy continued, a defiant look on his face.

"Well, I guess I do not have to listen to him anymore," he said, raising his wand.

Harry did not react, knowing that Malfoy was not about to hurt him. Instead, Malfoy pointed his wand at where his own face was represented on the tapestry and whispered an incantation. There was a small bang and Malfoy's face was replaced by a black smudge.

Harry knew the significance of what Malfoy had just done, and knew that no words would be right for the occasion.

Without a further word, Malfoy pocketed his wand and left the room, leaving Harry facing the small black burn-mark that meant so much…

**Thanks to ToxicRainfall, my awesome beta :D And to everyone to has reviewed, favourited and put my story on alert! **

**Please review :)**


	9. The Brothers

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter 9**  
**The Brothers**

~~~~~Last Time~~~~~

Harry did not react, knowing that Malfoy was not about to hurt him. Instead, Malfoy pointed his wand at where his own face was represented on the tapestry and whispered an incantation. There was a small bang and Malfoy's face was replaced by a black smudge.

Harry knew the significance of what Malfoy had just done, and knew that no words would be right for the occasion.

Without a further word, Malfoy pocketed his wand and left the room, leaving Harry facing the small black burn-mark that meant so much…

* * *

**Draco's POV**

Draco twisted and turned, unable to get to sleep on the hard floor. He lay listening to the soft breathing of the others, wishing sleep could claim him too. His wish was ignored, and soon the sky outside begun to grow steadily lighter. Eventually, giving up on his futile attempt to sleep, he crawled out of his sleeping bag and stood up, stretching his aching legs. He pulled down the sleeves of the top he was wearing; he felt uncomfortable wearing clothes which didn't belong to him. Potter and Weasley had allowed him to borrow theirs, but Potter's were a bit too small and Weasley's were too long.

He skirted around the sleeping figures of the two boys on the floor, and opened the door silently. Slipping out, he cast a quiet '_lumos' _charm as the hallway was dim and his sight obscured. He hadn't finished his exploration of the house the day before, so he decided to start where he left off. He made his way upstairs.

The room next to the drawing room appeared to be a study. The dusty bookshelves looked like they hadn't been touched in many years and the desk matched the rest of the house, big and grand, with carved snakes twisting around the legs. The surface of the desk was littered with yellowing pieces of parchment, and on closer inspection it appeared to be transfiguration research. He briefly wondered who had written it, but could find no names. Realising that there was nothing of interest in the room, he left. There were no other rooms on the floor which he hadn't already explored, so he walked back to the end of the hall and proceeded up to the next floor. The landing was small, and only two doors led from it. He walked to the one furthest away, and lifted his wand. The nameplate on the door read '_Sirius'_.

He stood in front of the door for a moment, wondering if it was okay for him to go in. He felt like he was being unnecessarily nosy, which was true, but he wanted to enter this room for a completely different reason. Although he would never admit to it, he felt a strange connection with Sirius Black. Like Black, he too had turned his back on his parents and their pureblooded ideas.

The door protested loudly as he opened it. He realised that this room had clearly been uninhabited for a long time, perhaps longer than the rest of the house. He wondered if Potter had even been in here. The room was large and very bright, and so he extinguished the light coming from his wand with a non-vocal '_nox'. _The room, although now rather dusty, must have once been very grand. It was very messy, with papers and books scattered across the floor, and the drawers were open and emptied. The bedcovers had been pulled from the large bed, and a few posters had been pulled from the walls. The rest were still intact; Draco presumed they had been charmed to stay on the walls. There were red and gold Gryffindor banners across the walls, next to posters of women. A single piece of parchment lay on the bed, and he drew closer only to find that it was only a motorbike maintenance manual.

A flash of movement drew his eye and he jerked his head up, his wand raised. He was relieved to find it was just a photo, and he was about to look away except that the figures in the photo caught his attention. Standing in the middle of four students was a grinning boy with messy black hair and glasses. Draco had heard many people tell Potter how similar he looked to his father, but had never realised how true it was until now. However, behind the similarities, there were subtle differences between the Potter he knew and his father. Other than the obvious difference of the eyes, the Potter in the photograph looked smug and adored, whilst the Potter he had known the last few days was, though he hated to admit it, more humble and polite. The difference startled him, and he finally understood why Snape was always saying how Potter was arrogant like his father.

Tearing his eyes away from James Potter, he looked to the boy standing to his right. He was taller than Potter, with longer, well-groomed black hair and a look of amusement on his face. Draco recognised the boy as Sirius Black. He knew it was him, as in his Third Year there were numerous wanted posters plastered all around school and Hogsmeade of Potter's godfather. The boy to Sirius' right startled Draco. It was a young Lupin, his ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. To James' right was a boy Draco didn't recognise.

All four of them looked so different, yet all had the same look of complete happiness on their faces. Draco could almost feel the cheerfulness radiating from the photo, yet his heart sunk. He looked away from the four students, and he wondered what it would be like to be in their position, to have friends that truly care about him. Sure, he hung around with Crabbe and Goyle, and sometimes Blaise or Pansy, but he never felt that he could really be himself around them. He never felt that he could talk to them about anything he wanted. They weren't real _friends. _Now, looking at this picture, he wanted nothing more than real friends. He wanted to have people he could feel completely comfortable around, and someone he could talk to about anything, without being judged.

A creaking floorboard made him jump; someone was in the hall below. Whilst he didn't think there was anything wrong with being in Black's room, he didn't feel comfortable with the idea of someone finding him in there, especially as he was feeling emotional over a photo of four men he had never even met. He crept out of the room, just as the person began climbing the stairs. He ran into the other room on the landing and closed the door behind him.

The room he had just entered was the opposite of the room he had just left. Although they had the same layout, with the same large bed, desk and large windows, this room was decorated with green and silver: Slytherin colours. The wall around the bed was covered in newspaper cuttings, but Draco couldn't make out what they were about. As with the other room, the books and parchment were strewn across the floor, along with a few robes, although it was much messier than the other room.

The floorboards outside the door creaked, but the door did not open, whoever it was passed and went into Sirius Black's old bedroom.

Walking closer to the bed, Draco realised the newspaper cuttings were all about Voldemort. Whoever this room belonged to was clearly a fan. Reading the headline of the closest article, his stomach churned. _'Muggle orphanage burned down by Death Eaters. Death toll: 50.' _The rest were similar, and Draco felt ill at the amount of murders the Death Eaters had actually committed. It was far more than he thought, and these appeared only to be the catastrophes of the _First_ War. Merlin knows what will happen now that they've taken control of the Ministry…

**Harry's POV**

Harry walked up the stairs slowly. He was still tired but could not sleep once he had awoken. The stairs creaked as he climbed. He hadn't been further than the second floor and so he had decided to explore the rest of the house. When he reached the landing, he found that there were only two doors leading off, one of which was not closed properly. Walking forwards to inspect it, he saw the nameplate: _'Sirius'. _He had never entered his godfather's room before, but before he could dwell on the loss, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was spacious and although it must once have been very grand, its condition had deteriorated greatly during the long years it had been empty. Harry frowned at the mess covering the floor. Surely Sirius wouldn't have left it like that? He reasoned that it must have been searched, as all the other rooms he had seen were in a similar condition. Not wanting to leave the room in the untidy state, he picked up a pile of papers from the floor, and was about to place them on top of the desk when familiar writing caught his eye. Putting away the other papers, he read the first line. '_Dear Padfoot', _it began.

A strange feeling welled up inside him. He continued reading. '_Thank you, thank you, for Harry's birthday present! It was his favourite by far.' _He froze, happy he'd found something written in the hand of his mother, but at the same time grief overwhelmed him. He quickly scanned the rest of the letter, hardly daring to believe it was actually written by the mother he could not remember. It seemed like proof that they had once lived. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes, but he made no move to wipe them away. Feeling dizzy, he sat down on the floor. The tears rolled down his cheeks, warm and wet, and soon the grief over took him. He curled his arms around his legs and great sobs tore through his body. He sat there for what seemed like an age, curled up, until eventually the tears stopped coming.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice came drifting up the stairs. "HARRY? Are you up there?"

Wiping the wetness from his face, he folded the letter and placed it in his pocket and stood up. "Yes, I'm here."

He left the room to find Hermione standing at the bottom of the staircase.

"You had us so worried. We didn't know where you went!" Hermione said. "I'm going to find something for breakfast, so come down when you're done. Oh, and Harry? Is Draco up there with you?"

"No, why?"

"He wasn't in his sleeping bag when I woke up," she said, her voice a mix of concern and suspicion.

"He's probably just exploring again," Harry said.

"You're right," she replied. "Sorry. Anyway, I'll be downstairs if you need me."

Harry hovered at the top of the stairs, unsure if he wanted to return to his godfather's old room. It was a connection to Sirius, yet it still hurt so much to think about him. He wasn't ready to go downstairs and see Ron and Hermione, so instead he made his way towards the other door. It must have belonged to Regulus, Sirius' brother. He remembered standing by the tapestry of the family tree with Sirius, and the look on Sirius' face when he said his brother was murdered for trying to leave the Death Eaters.

He pushed the door open, and unlike Sirius', it opened silently. Stepping into the room, he was surprised to see Malfoy there, standing with his back to him. The boy's posture was rigid. He looked very uncomfortable. Harry suddenly felt his flush as he realised that Malfoy must have heard him sobbing. He felt foolish; how could he have let himself fall apart like that? If Malfoy knows, what's to stop him using it against him, taunting him for his loss of control?

He turned his back to the room, stepping out of the door, when Malfoy spoke.

"I won't tell them."

He spun back around, surprised at what Malfoy was saying. He felt gratitude towards his ex-enemy.

"Thanks."

He turned around once more, ready to leave. Just then, the sun reflected off a metal sign, temporarily blinding him. As his sight came back, he could read the sign clearly:

'_Do Not Enter_  
_Without the Express Permission of  
Regulus Arcturus Black'._

Realisation coursed through him: he had found R.A.B.

* * *

**Thank you to ToxicRainfall for beta-reading for me :D And thanks to everyone who has reviewed :)**


	10. The Portrait

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter 10**  
**The Portrait**

~~~~~Last time~~~~~

He turned around once more, ready to leave. Just then, the sun reflected off a metal sign, temporarily blinding him. As his sight came back, he could read the sign clearly:

'_Do Not Enter_  
_Without the Express Permission of  
Regulus Arcturus Black'._

Realisation coursed through him: he had found R.A.B.

* * *

**Harry's POV**

Harry froze, the name running over and over in his head: '_Regulus Arcturus Black…Regulus Arcturus Black'._

R.A.B was Sirius' brother…? But how? Sirius had said that his own brother was a loyal follower of both his family's ideals and of Voldemort, so why would he have gone against them? Why would he have swapped the locket in order to destroy the Horcrux? It didn't make any sense to him.

He walked into the room, ignoring Malfoy who was staring at him with a confused look on his face. In the back of his mind, Harry realised how odd he must look, complete with his dumbstruck expression and wide eyes. Looking around Regulus' room, it was even harder to believe that he had taken the locket; the room had a similar layout to his godfather's, but the content was strikingly different. The walls were painted Slytherin colours, and were covered in a collage of reports about Voldemort. Harry felt sick; it was like a shrine. There was just no way that this man would go against Voldemort.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice came from the doorway. "What's wrong?"

"Regulus Arcturus Black," Harry said quietly.

"Who?" Hermione replied, before her eyes widened in realisation. "R.A.B? Are you sure? It can't be Sirius' brother...I can't believe it."

"Can't believe what?" Ron added, sticking his head into the room.

"The locket. R.A.B is Sirius's brother," Hermione explained.

"Wow," Ron said, his voice full of surprise, "that was convenient."

"Not necessarily," Hermione said. "Just because we found out who R.A.B is, it doesn't mean we know where the locket is. Would you leave a H-...one of _those _in your house?"

"Well, we're still one step closer," Harry intervened, unwilling to let them argue.

"To what?" Malfoy asked. Somehow, Harry just knew that Malfoy realised he would not get the truth.

"We're looking for a locket," Harry described. "It's gold, and it has a serpent on it, shaped like an S."

Harry froze for a second, thinking for a moment that he had seen in somewhere before. He racked his brains, but could not remember where he saw it, so he dismissed it as a description he must have heard from Dumbledore or from a memory he had seen.

"Well," Hermione said, "come on. Let's search."

Harry began picking up random items, knowing in the back of mind that they would not find it here. But where? Harry froze, dropping the books he was holding.

"It was in the drawing room. In the cabinet," he said, realisation dawning on him.

"_What?" _Ron asked. "Is it still in there? What are we waiting for?"

Hermione gasped again. "We threw it out. We put it in the rubbish bag with all of the other things…"

"Kreacher! He might have it…" Ron said, heading out of the room. Harry and Hermione followed him immediately, and Draco following behind them, looking very confused.

"There's nothing here," Ron called, before Harry had even reached the kitchen.

"Kreacher!" Harry called, moving into the room. With a crack like a gunshot, the dirty elf appeared in front of the four.

**Draco's POV**

Draco gasped as a dirty house-elf popped into the room. He had no idea that Potter, of all people, owned a house-elf. Their services were usually only found in the richest and most prestigious pureblood family homes. He had never seen a house-elf as ragged as Kreacher, although most house-elves wore rags as a sign of their enslavement. He'd not once met an elf as repulsive as the one in front of him.

"Master," the elf croaked, bowing mockingly. "I see you're back in my Mistress' house with that blood-traitor Weasley and the Mudblood and- Oh." His eyes widened as he spotted Draco. "Who's this? Is that a _Malfoy_?"

Draco was shocked; he had never seen, or even expected, an elf to act in such a disrespectful way towards its master.

Potter looked down at the elf. "I forbid you to call anyone a 'mudblood' or a 'blood-traitor', you hear? Anyway, I've got a question for you. Did you steal a locket from one of the rubbish bags a few years ago? The locket was in the drawing room cabinet..."

"Yes," Kreacher said. When Potter didn't say anything, the elf continued. "Kreacher took the locket, for it was Master Regulus' and not a blood traitor's like-"

"I told you not to call anyone 'blood traitor' or 'mudblood'," Potter growled. "Anyway, never mind that. Did you say it was 'Master' Regulus' locket? Where is it now? And what's it got to do with Regulus Black?"

Draco watched the little elf as he bowed his head. He had never seen Potter act so hostile to anyone, not even to him. He was watching the elf as if he had never seen anything more vile. It looked as though he couldn't bear to be in his company.

"Master Regulus' locket was stolen by Mundungus Fletcher. I tried to stop him... It was _Master_ Regulus' locket… "

Draco watched the trio as the elf launched into the story of Regulus Black and the locket. As Kreacher was describing his expedition to a cave with the Dark Lord, Granger, in particular, looked disgusted at the way he had been treated. Draco was indifferent. Many house-elves were treated worse than this. However, when he heard that Kreacher had been abandoned on an island, surrounded by a lake of inferi, he could not help feel a little for it. Draco watched Potter throughout the story; he could clearly see the other boy's face transform from disgust to pity. He saw Potter trying to hide his pity as he heard that Regulus Black had been pulled under the water. He didn't understand, why had he given his life for the locket? Why was it so important to the Dark Lord? Draco was so lost in thought that he almost didn't notice Potter giving the elf the fake locket, only noticing when Kreacher burst into noisy tears. Draco thought back through everything the others had been hiding from him and he remembered a term he had heard before, whispered by his father to a man he did not know: 'Horcrux'. Could this locket be a Horcrux? It made sense to him, as they were all acting secretive around the term, but he didn't know what it meant and why it was so significant.

The elf disapparated with a loud crack. Granger suddenly announced she was going to find something to eat, but even Draco could tell she was trying to hide her face. The boys followed her, Draco once again trailing along awkwardly. He vaguely wondered how long this awkwardness would last, and how long they would be on the run for.

"Hermione!" Weasley called, as Granger tripped on the last stair. The bag she had been carrying around with her flew out of her hand and hit the floor with an echoing thud.

The curtains, which Potter had indicated to the previous day, flew open. An old portrait of a woman hung behind the curtains. She was the most grotesque woman he had ever seen, though whether it was from the age and decay of the portrait or if she was actually like that, he did not know, nor did he want to find out. Her yellowing skin sagged from her face, and her eyes bulged as she screamed and shouted.

"Filth! Mudbloods and blood traitors. Scum in the house of my fathers…How dare you taint my home with your _filth_!" she shouted, and upon seeing Draco, she continued. "A Malfoy with _them_? How pitiful…scum like you ought to…" What he ought to he never found out, as with a bang Potter forced the curtains shut.

"I thought Mrs Black would be more pleased to see you," Potter said, as Weasley and Granger disappeared down into the kitchen. "Charming woman, isn't she? She's stuck there with a permanent sticking charm, so there's nothing we can do but try to be quiet when we're out here."

Draco followed Potter down into the basement kitchen, lost in thought. Was that what he had been like? He had grown up being taught about pure blood superiority, but he had never really given it much thought before. When he was following his father's beliefs, he could care less about those he had considered below him... But now the tides had changed. He was now seen as a blood traitor. He was now the one being treated as an inferior. It wasn't entirely fair, he realised, how the wizarding world works. Whilst he didn't like the idea of wizards marrying muggles, or the idea of mudbloods being treated as equally as pure bloods, he had never really thought about how they are just as much magical as he is. The world didn't work in the way his father had taught him...

"Malfoy?" Potter's voice floated towards him. "Are you ok?"

Draco nodded, though it wasn't true. He had just realised that what he had believed his whole life was not true. His whole life had been a lie.

* * *

**Sorry I haven't updated in so long! I've been busy with exams and stuff!**

**Thanks to ToxicRainfall, by super awesome beta-reader :D**

**Please review! I'd really like to see some more reviews :) Only about 1/3 of people who have it on alert have reviewed, so it'll be really nice to see what you think :)**


	11. The Headmaster

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter 11**  
**The Headmaster**

~~~~~Last time~~~~~

Draco followed Potter down into the basement kitchen, lost in thought. When he was following his father's beliefs, he could care less about those he had considered below him... But now the tides had changed. The world didn't work in the way his father had taught him...

"Malfoy?" Potter's voice floated towards him. "Are you ok?"

Draco nodded, though it wasn't true. He had just realised that what he had believed his whole life was not true. His whole life had been a lie.

* * *

**Harry's POV**

Harry rose early again the following day, unable to stay asleep due to all of the unanswered questions the events of the day before had brought up. He had been up for quite a long time before anyone else rose. He wished he had something to do to pass the time; what he would give to have a copy of _'Quidditch Through the Ages' _to read. Without anything to do, his mind returned to the day before. He had mixed feelings about what had happened, but it was so eventful that he had no time to think it over. He was surprised that they had found the Horcrux before, but also slightly disturbed that they had handed around a piece of Voldemort's soul. He had felt optimism at first, replaced by pessimism when he had found out that the Horcrux was stolen. Who knows where it had been since then? It was over two years since Sirius had died. It could be anywhere by now. Sirius… He wished he could go somewhere to grieve for Sirius, like a grave, yet there was nowhere. This house was the closest he was going to get. Thinking of his godfather inevitably led to thinking about his parents. Something inside him really wanted to go and see their graves, but part of him didn't want to see the solid evidence that they had lived and died.

Luckily Hermione had woken, preventing him from brooding over his family. They had a brief discussion of what they were going to eat, with Hermione offering to go under the invisibility cloak to find food. Harry decided that this was too dangerous. Hearing a metallic squeak, Harry froze, and he felt Hermione stiffen next to him. He regained his senses and instinctively pulled out his wand and trained it on the source of the sound – the door was unlocking. Holding his breath, Harry waited for the door to open. Was it a friend, or foe? Should he stop them coming in? He was too afraid to open the door himself. He was afraid he'd see a cloaked figure standing on the doorstep. A sudden movement made him jump slightly, but was relieved as he saw it was only Hermione drawing her wand.

As the door slowly creaked open, Ron and Malfoy came bursting into the room, wands out ready to face whoever was on the other side of the door. How they had heard the door opening from where they had been sleeping, Harry did not know, but he was grateful they were there beside him.

After what seemed like an age, the door opened to reveal a figure in a patchy travelling cloak. Harry jumped as the swirling dust-figure of Dumbledore rose and Moody's voice boomed out of nowhere.

"It was not I who killed you, Albus," said a quiet voice which Harry recognised instantly.

"Hold your fire, it's me, Remus!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione and Ron lower their wands, relief spread across their features. He was glad to see Malfoy still had his wand out, but then realised that he was probably used to dangerous situations like this. He knew that someone's word cannot always be trusted.

"Prove yourself," Harry demanded.

"I am Remus John Lupin, a werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map. I am married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag."

"Oh, good," Harry said weakly. He knew the house wasn't safe, but where would they go if the Death Eaters were able to get in?

"Sorry it's been so long, but I had to chase off the Death Eater following me," he said, looking weary. "Shall we go down into the kitchen? It's a little cold in here."

The four of them moved into the kitchen, where Lupin proceeded to stand in front of the fireplace. He held out his hands and a small groan escaped his lips.

"Ah."

He looked around at the table and spotted Malfoy. "Oh, I should've known you were here," he said. "After you disappeared at the wedding, some believed you had joined the Death Eaters again, but we couldn't work out where else you could've gone…"

"Yeah, well, we didn't have much of a choice. He had to come with us," Ron grumbled.

Lupin pulled a newspaper out from his cloak. "I've got news, and lots of it. I didn't know if you had access to the Daily Prophet, but I thought you'd prefer to hear it in person."

He sighed, closing his eyes.

"Is my family okay?" Ron asked, the concern clear in his voice. "What about the other guests? Did they manage to get away?"

"Yes, they're fine, as are all the other guests at the wedding. A few minor injuries but nothing major. Luckily, a large part of the Order was there to protect everyone. But it's all different now that the Ministry has fallen. It's only been a few days, but the whole Wizarding World is completely unrecognisable. The worse thing, though…"

He opened the newspaper to the second spread and pushed it towards them. The headline jumped out at Harry. 'The Muggle-born Register'. Skimming the article, Harry felt nauseous. He could see Hermione grow paler as she read.

"That's…that's…" she stammered. "That's just so horrible. How can they justify this?"

"There's nothing to stop them doing what they wish to now. They effectively control the government, so who's there to tell them they are wrong?" Lupin said, frowning. "They've got the full support of the law behind them. That's how they're able to go after you, too," he said, pulling another newspaper from inside his cloak.

"You're not going to like this, either," he said, unfolding it and handing it over. Harry looked down at the paper. His own face stared up at, enlarged to fill almost the whole front page.

Hermione gasped. "How are they doing this?" she asked. "On what pretext?"

"….Well, I suppose I should tell you. You're going to find out anyway. It's…it's not very nice." He reached over and turned the page over. The headline leapt out. _'Wanted for Questioning on the Death of Albus Dumbledore.'_

"You have _got _to be kidding me," Ron said, and Hermione nodded in agreement. Harry remained silent, however, unable to find the words to explain how he felt. How could they do this? How could he be blamed for such an atrocious act? He felt ill. Him murder Dumbledore? Dumbledore, who had helped him all these years, who had been there for him…

"I told you it's not pleasant," Lupin said quietly, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry had not even noticed him move from his chair. "It's…it's awful. It's so similar to the First War, yet so different. They didn't have control of the Ministry last time…They effectively have the whole Wizarding population of the whole country under control. There's no telling what else they're going to do, other than the obvious, such as moving against muggle-borns."

"What's the Order doing?" Ron asked.

"I thought that question would come up. The Order is in a very difficult position right now, being the only force against the Ministry and Voldemort. There's not many of us, and we can hardly go out recruiting…Voldemort has his spies everywhere. It's like before – he's created a climate of fear. No-one knows who can be trusted and who can't. Those you thought you could trust may no longer be trustworthy…You see the problem. But we're trying all we can." He attempted to reassure them with a smile.

"The best thing to do is stick together," he said, glancing at Malfoy. "There's so little resistance against him, so we need to make sure we stick together, and work with each other to perform our best," he explained, reminding Harry strongly of his teaching at Hogwarts.

"That's…That's why I'm here," he hesitated. "I don't know what you're doing – don't worry, I'm not going to ask you to tell me," he said, as Harry was about to speak. "But I can tell it's something important. It's dangerous out there, and you're all so young…"

Harry glanced at Hermione, worried at where this conversation was going.

"You want to come with us," he realised.

"Well…yes. It's going to be tough. There will be magic you've never seen before –"

"What about Tonks?" Hermione asked delicately, understanding why Harry seemed so annoyed.

"What about her? She and the baby will be safer-" Lupin began. Hermione saw Harry flinch.

"She's pregnant? And you're going to abandon her? Just to go on a little adventure with us?" Harry said, almost shouting.

"You don't understand…"

"No, I think I do. You're going to leave her – have you even told her? – just so you can run around with us, pretending…" Harry stood up, his right hand tightly curled around his wand. "I can't believe you."

There was a bang, and Harry felt himself thrown backwards into the wall. He regained his senses quickly, but not before he heard the front door slam and a loud crack, indicating that Lupin had apparated away.

Harry looked around, unsure of what to do. Ron and Hermione seemed shocked. Malfoy, who had begun flicking through one of the newspapers Lupin had left, seemed indifferent. _Why would he care? _Harry suddenly realised_. No-one cares about him. We've been ignoring him the whole time, so why would he be bothered that something has happened to us?_

When no-one said anything to him, Harry turned around and began walking towards the stairs, noting Ron and Hermione's silent communications out of the corner of his eye. He sat on the bottom stair, unsure of what to do. He knew he shouldn't have shouted at Lupin like that, or left the kitchen, but what else was he supposed to do? He wasn't in the mood for company. All he could think about was the accusations made about him in the _Daily Prophet. _He had been trying not to think about the Headmaster all this time, and then it just took one moment and all his feelings came flooding back. He felt empty, lost…Dumbledore seemed to know how to do everything, and now he was stuck here with no clue as to where any of the Horcruxes were. But mostly, he felt appalled…Who knows how many people believed what the Daily Prophet said? Everyone must think he is no better than a Death Eater. It made him angry to think of who could possibly think up such an accusation..

He heard footsteps making their way towards the kitchen door, where the walker would see Harry sitting at the bottom of the stairs, so Harry quickly dashed up the stairs and crouched into a doorway. He was not in the right frame of mind for company. He just needed to be alone to work out his feelings and calm down.

"Why did you shout at Lupin like that?" He heard Ron's voice, but did not look up. "I mean, I know what he wanted to do to Tonks wasn't very nice, but he could have been a lot of help…"

"So you think it's okay that he abandons his wife and child, just for us?"

"Well, they'll be looked after okay…I know it's hard for you to accept, but he would have been really helpful. I mean, like he said, there's going to be a lot of stuff we've never seen before…We're only students, after all. I don't know anything about Dark Magic, and I doubt you or Hermione do, either. I bet Malfoy knows loads but I don't really…"

"You don't get it…"

"What's not to get?" Ron asked. Harry could almost see his temper rising from his hiding place. "I understand it well enough. You don't want Lupin – who was the best teacher we've ever had – come with us and help us out, yet you're absolutely fine with letting Malfoy come with us!"

"That's different!" Harry's tone was indignant.

"How is it? I don't see how it is. Malfoy hasn't done anything to help us!"

"Malfoy didn't come with us willingly, you know that! He didn't get a choice. If he stayed with the Death Eaters, then who knows what would have happened? Staying with Tonks isn't going to have any bad consequences for Lupin, is it? He shouldn't leave her. That child needs a father. He can't just leave that child for no reason."

"It's not for no reason-"

"Yes it is, Ron! You don't understand. You don't know what it's like to live without parents! It's not…"

"What are you two arguing about?" Hermione's raised voice came from the kitchen. She came out of the room and stood with Ron, looking up the stairs towards where Harry was crouched. "You heard what Lupin said. We need to stick together. It's going to be hard enough as it is. Come on, I've managed to sort out some food, if you want…"

She cut off as Ron pushed gently past her. Hermione looked at him sympathetically. "I know it's not nice. We knew it was going to be hard. But we've got to keep together," she said, before retreating back into the kitchen. Hesitating for a moment, Harry stood up, made his way downstairs and followed her.

They ate in silence. Hermione was sitting between Harry and Ron, who were trying their best to ignore each other. Ron found this easy, and decided on glaring at Malfoy instead, who was now looking through the second newspaper.

"Potter." Harry looked up, surprised that Malfoy was talking to him. "You might want to see this."

Pulling the offered newspaper towards him, Harry looked down to see another startling article. His insides churned as a familiar face scowled up at him from the paper, glaring at him with cold black eyes. He had to read the headline several times before the meaning sank in.

"Snape's headmaster," he said, looking up to register his friends surprise. He looked closer at the picture, and sure enough, it was taken in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

"I'll be right back," he muttered, once again leaving the room. He returned to the hall, and slid down the wall onto the stair. Snape, Dumbledore's killer, in Dumbledore's office… How could this happen? He tried not to imagine Snape, the one who committed the murder Harry himself was being accused of, sitting in the office, surrounded by Dumbledore's equipment. _Or would he have gotten rid of it? Thrown it all away, and replaced it with his own Dark instruments? _

Hatred raging inside him, Harry wanted nothing better than to make Snape pay for what he had done.

* * *

**Sorry it's been so long!**

**No Draco's POV in this one, I tried to fit it in but it just didn't want to work.**

**Please Review! Compared to the amount of alerts I've got, I haven't got many reviews, so it would be nice to see a few more :)**


	12. The Locket

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter 12  
The Locket**

~~~~~Last time~~~~~

"I'll be right back," he muttered, once again leaving the room. He returned to the hall, and slid down the wall onto the stair. Snape, Dumbledore's killer, in Dumbledore's office… How could this happen? He tried not to imagine Snape, the one who committed the murder Harry himself was being accused of, sitting in the office, surrounded by Dumbledore's equipment. _Or would he have gotten rid of it? Thrown it all away, and replaced it with his own Dark instruments? _

Hatred raging inside him, Harry wanted nothing better than to make Snape pay for what he had done.

* * *

**Harry's POV**

Harry remained on the stairs for a long time, letting his bitter thoughts of Snape take over his mind.

A startling sound, like a gunshot, echoed through the house, causing Harry to jump up in surprise and race towards the kitchen. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through him as he took the stairs two at a time, his heart in his mouth. He stopped abruptly as he entered the kitchen. Relief flooded through him as he saw a dirty looking Kreacher wrestling with the short figure of Mundungus Fletcher, with Hermione, Ron and Malfoy looking on, unsure of what to do. He wanted to stun Mundungus, but was worried he may accidentally hit Kreacher. Harry wasn't sure how magic affected house elves.

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione shouted, catching Mundungus' wand as it flew towards her. Kreacher took advantage of the distraction and managed to get Mundungus under control. Ron helped Kreacher, keeping his wand aimed at the older man.

"Kreacher apologizes for the delay, Master. Mudungus Fletcher knows how to avoid capture, but Kreacher cornered the thief in the end," he said, bowing.

"Thanks, Kreacher," Harry replied genuinely.

"Wha've I done? Setting a bleedin' 'ouse-elf on me. What are you playing at? Lemme go, or– "

"I've got a few questions for you," Harry said. "And no, it's not about you leaving Mad-Eye to die, although obviously we're not exactly happy about that, either," he added, as Mundungus opened his mouth again to protest.

"Well then, why the 'ell am I being 'unted down by 'ouse-elves?"

"Well, if you stop talking I can tell you!", Harry snapped, his temper rising. Mundungus quickly closed his mouth, looking scared.

"When you stole things from this house, did you take a locket from the cupboard in the kitchen?"

Mundungus nodded, his eyes darting between Ron and Harry's raised wands. "I ain't got it no more, or you could 'ave it."

"What did you do with it?", Harry asked, his heart sinking. "Did you sell it? To who?"

"Didn't sell it, did I? Bleedin' gave it away, di'n' I? 'Ad no choice."

"Why? Who took it?"

"Some Ministry 'ag. I was selling in Diagon Alley and she come up askin' if I got a license for tradin' in magical artefacts. She was gonna fine me, but she took a fancy to the locket an' told me she'd take it and let me off."

Harry exchanged glances with the others. It could have been anyone in the Ministry.

"Do you remember what she looked like? What was she wearing?"

"Dunno," he said, thinking. "Short woman. Ghastly pink robes. Li'l bow on 'er 'ead."

"Umbridge," Harry, Ron and Hermione said at the same time.

"Okay. That's all we wanted to know. You can go now. Make sure you apparate from the top step," Harry said, gesturing to Kreacher to let Mundungus go. "I'll come with you, to make sure you keep your hands to yourself."

"Umbridge," Ron spat, when Harry returned to the kitchen. "I can't believe that old toad has it. What if it's-" he mouthed the word 'possessing', "her?"

"I don't think so," Harry said, absentmindedly rubbing his hand, "she seems genuinely evil."

"That's because she is," Malfoy joined in. "She's no Death Eater, but she certainly sympathises with their aims. She used to come to my father's dinner parties occasionally."

Harry noticed a flicker of pain flash cross Malfoy's face, but it was gone so quickly that he thought he must have just imagined it.

Hermione, who had remained quiet so far, was attempting to think of a way to ambush Umbridge to get the locket back, but was coming up blank. The three Gryffindors all seemed unable to think of a plan.

Surprisingly, it was Malfoy who took charge. "Okay, so what do we know about Umbridge so far?"

**Draco's POV**

"She's evil," Weasley muttered, but Draco ignored him.

"She works at the Ministry, although I'm not sure of the department," Potter answered. "She's close to the Minister."

"She's the Senior Under-secretary to the Minister," Draco replied. He was still unsure why the locket was so important, but for some reason he felt compelled to help the trio get it back, even though he knew it would be risky. He wished his thoughts were as before, when he only wished to help in order to get out of the house, but somehow he knew that he wanted to help them for no other reason than to accomplish something against the Dark Lord. Whatever the purpose of the locket was, it's the first lead they had so far, so there was no use in not making the most of it.

"So, what are we supposed to do? Break into the Ministry?", Weasley asked, looking to Granger and sounding nervous. "How are we supposed to manage that?"

"Breaking in might be the best idea," Draco replied, and saw Weasley stare at him; the question was obviously directed at Granger and not himself. But he did not care. He knew that they would have to get on eventually, and so there was no use in dragging out the hostilities. Weasley would just have to accept that he's there for good, and he wants to help them. Draco thought to himself, _When did I get so sentimental? I guess that's what being cooped up with three Gryffindors does to you… _

"But not necessarily. There must be another way," Granger replied. "You said that she sometimes attended your father's dinner parties. Did you ever visit her house?"

"Only once," Draco replied, trying to remember when it was. It was a long time ago, and his memory of it was somewhat hazy. He remembered the inside was very feminine, which had startled him at first, but he could not recall how it looked on the outside, or where it was located. "I think we flooed in, so I don't know where it was."

"Okay," Granger replied, sounding disappointed. "Did she ever say anything when you were in the Inquisitorial Squad? Anything about what she does outside of work, or anything else that could help?"

"Not that I can remember. She just talked about her job and Fudge. And Potter, of course. The only lead we have is the Ministry. We don't really have a choice. We will just have to get her when she's at work."

"Or perhaps when she is travelling?" Potter asked.

"She would probably use the floo network, but there's no harm in checking the entrances," Draco replied. "How important is this locket?" He saw the others throw each other suspicious glances. "I only meant, how soon do you need to have it? If you could spare a couple of days, we could watch the entrances and formulate a proper plan."

"We should disguise ourselves," Granger added, "as Ministry workers. Preferably those with higher positions, as we would then have more freedom and authority in the Ministry."

"Those with higher positions are most likely to be high rank Death Eaters, and they definitely would use the floo network," Draco informed them. "The best plan would be to just watch the entrances to see who goes in that way, and then we can decide on who we can disguise ourselves as. One problem, though..." he added, realising something. "...Do any of you know where the normal entrance to the Ministry is? I have never gone in that way."

"I do," Weasley piped up, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "Dad used to take me to work with him sometimes."

...

The following week passed quickly, each of them taking it in turns to watch the entrance to the Ministry. Draco could feel the others' reluctance to allow him to go alone; he knew they still thought he wasn't trustworthy. He saw Potter's eyes flash with uncertainty as he handed the cloak to him on his first shift. Draco knew the cloak had belonged to Potter's father, and the thought reminded Draco of his own. What was the Dark Lord doing with him, and his mother? He knew that those who had fallen out of favour were usually given the worst tasks, and he knew that his own absence would only cause the Dark Lord more anger. He was determined to do as much as he could to see the Dark Lord gone, and he had to admit to himself that working with the trio was not as bad as he had expected now that they were talking to him a bit more. They had worked rather well together whilst formulating the plan.

Draco apparated onto the top step of Grimmauld Place, glad that they would finally carry out their plan to break into the Ministry the next day. He had only expected a few days' worth of careful planning, but Granger had wanted to find out as much as possible about the Ministry, and so it had took a lot longer than expected. He had to admit that their plan was by no means fool proof. There were plenty of opportunities for it to go wrong. He would leave worrying about it until tomorrow morning though, as he had learned long ago that worrying about something will make no difference, except a negative one. When he entered the house however, something felt different. Descending down the steps towards the kitchen, where he knew the others would be going over the plan, he wondered what had happened. It felt as if something about the house itself had changed, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Does anything feel different to you?" he asked the others, receiving confused glances in return. "I can't work out what it is. It just doesn't feel as safe as before," he realised.

"Feels the same to me," Granger answered. "You're probably just nervous about tomorrow. It's going to be very dangerous. The Ministry is possibly the worst place we," she gestured at the four of them, "could be going in the present climate. I don't approve of this plan, but there's no other choice. Speaking of tomorrow, I think we should have an early night."

After muttering goodbyes, Draco walked slowly up the stairs, towards the room he had been sleeping in. He had occupied Regulus Black's old room, whilst Potter had been next door, in his Godfather's, and he was unsure of where the other two slept. Lying down, he contemplated the strange feeling around the house. Dismissing it as nerves, as Granger had suggested, he eventually fell asleep.

He was awoken the next morning by a loud tapping sound. Sitting up wearily, he located the source of the noise: a large owl was at the window, a letter attached to its leg. Thinking nothing of it, he removed the letter, noticed the Ministry seal, and opened it curiously. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the owl leave through the open window.

_Dear Mr Malfoy, _it read.

_It has come to our attention that you are no longer attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As part of our mandatory check-ups on absent students, we invite you to the Ministry at 2pm today for a meeting regarding your future career options. There is no need to reply. _

_Yours sincerely,  
Dolores Umbridge,  
Senior Under-secretary to the Minster._

Draco stared at the letter. He was holding the perfect excuse to enter the Ministry without being challenged. It seemed strange that it had come today, the day they were planning to break in, but brushed it off as a coincidence. Closing the window, he made his way downstairs to inform the others in the change of plan.

"I don't know," Granger said, pacing the kitchen. "It seems awfully convenient. And how comes only you have one? They must have noticed neither of us are attending, either."

"I know, but it's our only choice. You know as well as I do that the plan to disguise ourselves was very risky. At least this way we've got a way of getting into the Ministry. We only need a way of getting the locket once we are in, now."

Granger sighed. Draco looked around the room to see if anyone else would agree with his plan. Weasley, as usual, was staring into space, whilst Potter looked as if he was thinking hard about something.

"It might be a trap," Potter said, "but I think it's a better idea. We can't all go with you though. I think only one of us should go, under the cloak. If three random Ministry officials turned up with you, it would seem very suspicious."

"I'm not going," Weasley grumbled, glaring at Draco. He saw Potter sigh, and glance at Granger.

"I'll go," Granger offered. "It's too dangerous for Harry."

"No!" Weasley said, before turning bright red. "I-I, uh... I don't think you should be alone with him. I mean, we aren't sure if he can be trusted yet," he mumbled, his tone of voice showing clearly what his feelings on Draco's trustworthiness were.

"Well then, I guess I'll go," Potter said. "It's not as if this is the first dangerous situation I've been in," he added, when the others looked at him sceptically.

"Do you think we should take the maps?" he asked Draco.

**Harry's POV**

Apparating in front of the visitors entrance to the Ministry, Harry felt his insides squirm with nervousness. There was plenty of opportunity for the plan to go wrong, but he knew retrieving the Horcrux was vital. He had to admit, Malfoy's enthusiasm and hard work during the planning surprised him, especially when he remembered he didn't even know what the locket really was, or how important it was. He felt himself relax when Malfoy was with them, when before it would be tense and awkward. The Draco Malfoy he knew know was certainly a lot different from the one back at Hogwarts. He did sometimes revert back to his old self, especially when it involved his and Ron's opinions conflicting. Despite this, the change was remarkable, and Harry felt himself value the other boy's opinion and company more as the days went on. Regardless of what the other's believed, he could not see Malfoy going against them now, not after so long.

He coughed quietly, signalling to Malfoy that he was ready. The other boy gave a small, discreet nod in return, before opening the red telephone box and walking in. It was a squeeze to fit both of them in, and Malfoy had little room to dial the numbers. Harry's stomach flipped as the phone box gave a sudden lurch, and they soon found themselves within the Ministry.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please present your wand for inspection," a wizard in smart robes announced, not paying attention to who was in front of him. "10 inches, Hawthorne, with a core of unicorn hair. This wand belongs to Draco Malfoy," he read, looking up at Malfoy to confirm this. Harry watched Malfoy politely take his wand back, before realising the man was looking in his direction.

"Wait a minute, please," he said curtly. "Who is with you?"

"As you can see, I am alone," Malfoy replied coolly.

"Yes, yes," the man replied, nodding to himself. "You're here for a career meeting. Of course you would be alone. My apologies, please go on through. Just go straight down this corridor."

Harry let out the breath he had been holding, edging slowly past the man. He had seemed suspicious of Malfoy. Were they walking into a trap? He curled his hand around his wand, in case he should need it. They walked along the corridor in silence, unable to communicate. The corridor ended rather abruptly in a door, which Malfoy knocked on after a moment's hesitation. Harry could see no nameplate on the door, so assumed Malfoy must be blocking it. The door opened, revealing Umbridge, dressed in her usual pink robes.

"Ah, welcome Mr Malfoy," she greeted in a sugary voice, which Harry had come to associate with unpleasant things. "I take it you received our letter? As it explained, I would just like to have a brief meeting about your future aspirations. Shall we sit down with a cup of tea, and chat?" she said, smiling. Harry watched over Malfoy's shoulder as she moved away from the door to let Malfoy through. Stepping forward, Harry tried to get as close to Malfoy as possible, but instead was greeted with the door slamming in his face, and the sound of a locking charm activating. Cursing under his breath, he realised he had no option but to wait outside for the meeting to be over, and then try to steal the locket. But who knows what she was doing in there? He thought back to his fifth year, when she had offered him tea laced with Veritaserum. What if she wasn't alone in there? He knew Malfoy was not shy at duelling, but would he be able to take on multiple wizards if it should come to it? Unable to stand facing the door, he paced around the small corridor, willing the door to open.

After what seemed like an age, the door opened again, startling Harry. Looking around, he saw Umbridge wishing Malfoy a good day, the same sickly smile plastered on her face. As soon as the door closed behind him, Malfoy turned around to face him, pulling the locket out of his pocket and giving Harry a grin he had never seen before. Grinning back, he felt a rush of gratitude towards Malfoy.

He had done it. They had the first Horcrux.

* * *

**Thanks to the most awesomest person ever, ToxicRainfall, for beta reading this :)**

**Hi, I'd just like to let you all know that I won't be updating for at least the next month, as I've got exams coming up, and I need to get good grades to get into uni this September :) My last exam is on the 21st June, so the next update will probably be around the end of June. Thanks for reading so far and sticking through some long waits, but I hope it's worth it :)**

**Please review! It really makes my day, as cheesy as it sounds :D**


	13. The Traitor

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter 13**  
**The Traitor**

~~~~~Last time~~~~~

After what seemed like an age, the door opened again, startling Harry. Looking around, he saw Umbridge wishing Malfoy a good day, the same sickly smile plastered on her face. As soon as the door closed behind him, Malfoy turned around to face him, pulling the locket out of his pocket and giving Harry a grin he had never seen before. Grinning back, he felt a rush of gratitude towards Malfoy.

He had done it. They had the first Horcrux.

* * *

**Harry's POV**

"We did it!" Harry said, walking through the front door of Grimmauld Place to find Ron and Hermione waiting for them in the Hall, looking anxious and tense. "We got the locket."

"Well done," Hermione said, the relief on her face evident, whilst Ron broke out in a grin. Harry could tell how little faith she had in the plan. Both she and Ron were clearly braced for bad news. "How did you do it?"

"I didn't," he answered. "It was all Malfoy's work. We owe it to him."

"Oh," Hermione replied, taken aback. "Well…good work. But how?"

"I have my ways," Malfoy replied with a smirk, reminding Harry of their Hogwarts days.

"I see," Hermione replied, looking a little annoyed. "Me and Ron made some lunch," she added, as if that made everything better. "Shall we go have it?

Harry was about to step forward, when he felt something strange, as though he were somehow exposed. He turned around and tested the door to check it was shut properly, and then peered out of the window. There were still Death Eaters outside in the square, just as they had been every other day, but something felt different, although he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Something feels different," he announced, still trying to work it out. "It doesn't feel quite right…"

Malfoy, who had been examining the locket, looked up sharply. "I felt like that yesterday. It feels...not quite _safe._"

Hermione looked between them, looking sceptic. "Are you sure? It's probably just from what you just did. I mean, that must have affected you. It's the first time you've left to do something…" She trailed off. "Come and have some food. It may help. I think it's most likely just left-over nerves."

Ron followed Hermione down the hall, leaving Harry and Malfoy alone.

"I hope she's right," Harry said, before following them. Malfoy trailed along behind him, looking resigned.

Harry took a seat at the table, selecting a sandwich from the pile that Hermione had laid out. In the last few days they had decided to sneak out into muggle shops under the invisibility cloak, and had managed to get hold of some staple foods. Biting into the sandwich, his eyes wandered over to Malfoy, who had placed the locket in the middle of the table. Harry noticed that he seemed tense, sitting straight up in his chair and looking uninterested in his food. Whilst Harry admitted the food wasn't the best, neither of them had eaten much this morning and so he couldn't understand why Malfoy did not seem hungry. Harry still had the feeling that something wasn't right, but he tried to push the feeling away.

"So…what are we going to do with the, um, locket?" Ron asked, who had finished his food before everyone else, and was now staring at the locket. "We haven't got any way of, um, _dealing _with it," he added, glancing up Malfoy.

"I don't know," Hermione said, looking annoyed, and for a moment Harry felt as if he were back at Hogwarts and Hermione was thwarted by a particularly nasty essay.

"I'm fed up of this kitchen," Ron announced. "It seems like we're _always_ in here."

"Let's go to the drawing room, shall we? I want to have a look at the books," Hermione replied, following Ron up the stairs. Malfoy jumped at the creak of the first stair.

Harry leaned over and picked up the locket, examining it. He traced the '_S' _shape with his finger, wondering how someone could create such a thing. Was it just his imagination, or did if feel…

"It feels like a heartbeat," Malfoy said, looking at the locket curiously. However, he asked no more, which reminded Harry just how much Malfoy had changed.

"You're right," he replied. He turned the locket over in his palm, before trying to open it.

"It won't open, either. It's a very strange object, isn't it?"

"Yes," Harry replied, unwilling to elaborate. "I'm going to go upstairs, too." Whilst he was feeling more comfortable in Malfoy's company, he still felt awkward around him if they were left alone for prolonged periods of time. With Ron and Hermione, the conversation came naturally, but he had no idea what to say when he was alone with Malfoy, and he disliked the silences, so he usually found an excuse to leave.

Harry had barely reached the top of the stairs when he realised what felt so wrong the whole time. Whirling around he sprinted back down the stairs to Malfoy, who looked up in surprise.

"An owl came for you this morning, didn't it?" he asked quickly.

"…Yes," Malfoy answered, unsure of what he meant. Then, as their eyes met, he could see it click.

"The safety charms," Harry said. "The owl shouldn't have been able to get through them. That means…"

"They've gone. Someone broke them." Malfoy replied, standing up. "We have to leave. Immediately. Earlier, the meeting…of course it wasn't a career meeting. Well, that's what she talked about, but she had an ulterior motive. I think she was trying to find out where my loyalties lie – they must have guessed I was with you."

They stood there for a moment, looking at each other, before the words sunk in. They were unprotected. He shoved the locket in a pocket and sprinted up the stairs, Malfoy at his heels, and burst into the drawing room. He stopped, catching his breath. "We – we need to leave. Now."

"What?" Hermione said, looking confused, but started stuffing her beaded bag into her robes. "Why?"

"The protection enchantments have gone. That's why we," he gestured to himself and Malfoy, "felt so vulnerable. We need to leave…"

Hermione screamed, pointing her wand behind Harry. A cloaked figure was outside the window, floating on a broomstick. Harry felt his insides flip, reminded of a muggle horror film he had watched once.

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. Harry could tell what was going to happen before it did. He jumped aside just as the Death Eater shattered the glass of the window, covering the area he had just been with hundreds of shards of glass. At the same time, Harry could hear the other windows in the house being smashed. The Death Eater flew in, followed by another. They sent jets of red light towards them, and it was with some relief Harry realised they were aiming to stun, not kill. Perhaps they had been commanded not to kill him. These were matched with four other jets of light, one of which hit one of the Death Eaters. Just as Harry was about the curse the remaining Death Eater, the door burst open and more came into the room. The noise must have given away their location in the house. Harry couldn't count how many there were, but he knew there was no way they could battle their way out of this one.

They were trapped.

Sending an Impediment curse towards the door, where the remaining Death Eaters were all trying to get through at once, Harry realised what the wards falling meant – they could apparate from within the house. He just had to tell the others. Moving sideways to get a better aim, he whispered frantically in Hermione's ear, "Apparate. Forest of Dean. Take Ron." He cast a shield charm to protect her as she twisted on the spot, before sending another curse towards the doorway. Grabbing Malfoy, who was struggling to shield the spells of the first Death Eater who had found them, he closed his eyes as he span, desperately trying to remember what the Forest had looked like when they were there after the Quidditch World cup a few years ago.

His legs buckled as they found solid ground, and he fell sideways into the undergrowth. Struggling to sit up, he was vaguely aware of tugging on his skin, followed by a stinging sensation. Slowly opening his eyes, with great difficulty, he realised he had apparated into a space just beside a clearing.

"Harry? Harry?", a voice which Harry vaguely recognised shouted. He desperately tried to keep his eyes open, but they were just too heavy. His head felt like it was spinning, and he felt the voices fade away.

Harry winced as he was blinded by sunlight, and it took a moment for him to realise he had opened his eyes. He sat up slowly, his head swimming as he tried to take in his surroundings. Hermione was sitting beside him, watching him carefully, and Ron was next to her, looking like he had been trying to comfort her. A little further away, he could see another figure, which he assumed was Malfoy, setting up what looked like a tent.

"Oh, Harry, you're okay," Hermione said, smiling broadly at him. "I was so worried…"

"You splinched," Ron said in response to his confused expression. "It was pretty bad."

"Oh." He didn't have the energy to say anything else. He felt completely drained, and so laid back down onto the grass.

"Oh, you must be exhausted," Hermione said, searching through her bag. "We haven't got much food left, but I put the extra sandwiches away. I'm glad I decided to keep our food in my bag," she smiled weakly, handing a small bag of sandwiches to Harry.

He struggled to sit back up, but as he ate the food offered, he felt his strength slowly returning. Although he still didn't feel completely recovered, by the time he had finished, the dizziness had faded.

"Thanks," he smiled at Hermione.

"Do you think you can walk? We should get you to the tent. I think Malfoy has it all up by now," Hermione said.

Ron offered Harry his arm in support, and so he managed to get up. As they were walking over to the tent, he realised that Ron looked angry.

Entering the tent, Harry let out a little gasp. He had seen tents like this before – ones that looked like normal Muggle tents, but were actually large and cosy on the inside – at the World Cup, but it still amazed him. He took a seat at the table, where Malfoy was sitting, holding a cup of what smelled like coffee. The others followed him, taking a seat, Ron somewhat reluctantly.

"What happened, back at Grimmauld Place?" Hermione asked, although he could tell she already knew and just wanted to confirm her ideas.

"The protective enchantments were taken down. I'm not sure if it was the Ministry or the Death Eaters, but as Lupin said, they're pretty much the same thing now," Harry said. He felt a lot better now, refreshed even, as if he had just woken from a nice nap.

"But how?", Hermione asked. "It wasn't just any charm, it was the Fidelius charm. Only a Secret Keeper can tell another. There's no other way. I'm sure there isn't…" she trailed off, sounding frustrated at not understanding.

"Unless someone gave us away," Ron said.

The others looked up in confusion.

"Isn't it obvious?", he asked, looking agitated. "Malfoy gave us away."

"_What?", _came Malfoy's reply.

"It's no use lying," Ron spat. "You went into the Ministry today, and then they _suddenly_ attack. Sounds rather suspicious, doesn't it? There's no other explanation. Just admit it."

Malfoy looked between them, looking resigned.

"I have to admit, the evidence does appear rather suspicious," Hermione added.

"Wait, you think he betrayed us? After all this time?", Harry protested.

"Maybe he was just waiting for the opportunity," Ron replied. "Come on, you don't know what happened between him and Umbridge, do you? I don't like it, but we can't ignore the truth." He dropped his voice, "I always knew he was good for nothing."

"I did not tell Umbridge anything," Malfoy objected. "You're just going to blame me? What about the whole 'innocent until proven guilty' saying? You can't just blame me without proof."

"I – I know. I mean, it does sound pretty suspicious, but he's been pretty nice –"

"It's called acting, Harry. Crouch seemed nice when he was pretending to be Moody, remember? And Quirrell was never mean to you. Riddle was all charming when he was talking to Ginny… It just means he's a _clever_ traitor." Ron's voice was think with disgust.

"Is that a compliment, Weasley?" Malfoy sneered, clearly getting annoyed at the accusations. "Didn't think you could come up with that all by yourself."

"Shut it, ferret," Ron shot back, getting to his feet, Malfoy doing the same.

"Calm down, both of you!", Hermione said, trying to break up a potential fight.

"I'm not taking orders from a _mudblood," _Malfoy spat. The three of them stared at him in shock, but he took no notice, and instead walked off to one of the four bedrooms the tent had, slamming the small door behind him.

"That stupid…" Ron said, sitting back down. "I can't believe he would call you that!"

"Ron, Ron, it's okay," Hermione pleaded. "I'm fine. But what are we going to do now? How are we going to look for the others when we can't trust him?"

"Kick him out," Ron growled.

"Then…he might get killed," Harry added. He did not want to believe that after all this time, Malfoy had betrayed them. He had seemed so different…but as Ron said, it was probably all an act. The evidence against him was far too convincing.

"I think he'll have to stay, for now. When we think of something else, then we'll make him leave," Hermione said reasonably. "As much as I dislike what he did, we can't leave him to die."

"Think he would do the same for us?", Ron asked. "Think he would save us, if given the chance? I don't think so."

"I agree with Hermione," Harry piped up. "Sorry, Ron, but I think it's for the best."

"Fine," Ron said, clearly displeased.

The following weeks passed far too slowly for Harry. The days were spent sitting around, ignoring Malfoy (who usually kept to his room), and trying to plan their search for the remaining Horcruxes, just falling silent if Malfoy should walk in. Whilst Ron treated him with open hostility, Harry and Hermione usually just ignored his presence. Deep down, Harry felt sick at himself for treating someone else so badly, but he didn't know what other choice he had. This hostility was not helped by their frustration at not being able to think of more possible places the other Horcruxes may be, nor their lack of means to destroy the Horcrux they_ did _have. Harry had suggested Hogwarts many times, but this idea was shot down by the others every time he mentioned it, so he eventually stopped. This monotony was only broken every few days when they packed up the tent and moved to a different location, each as remote as the last.

It was Harry's turn to take the invisibility cloak to find the nearest muggle settlement and gather some food. At first, they had tried to find wild berries and nuts to eat, but this plan did not work, so they had no choice but to steal food. More often than not, however, they took some of the muggle money Hermione had brought, and left it as payment. But this was hard to do without anyone noticing.

Harry was walking along a street, thinking he recognised it from somewhere. Maybe it was one of those half-wizard, half-muggle communities, like Hogsmeade, and he had seen it once in a book. Taking care to be extra aware, his foot slipped on something. Reaching down to move it out of the way, he saw it was a copy of the latest edition of _The Quibbler. _The front cover had been ripped off by his shoe, and the headline of the first page jumped out at him. He read it, his eyes widening in shock.

Sprinting back to the tent, careful to ensure the invisibility cloak was still covering him, he burst in to find Ron and Hermione at the table.

"I've got news," he said, holding up the magazine.

* * *

**Sorry for the wait! Now my exams are over (phew), I should be back to updating more regularly. **

**I'd like to say thanks to ToxicRainfall for being an awesome beta :D And to all my readers, for sticking through the waits :)**

**Please review!**


	14. The Truth

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter 14**  
**The Truth**

~~~~~Last time~~~~~

He reached down to pick it up, and found it was the most recent edition of The_ Quibbler. _The front cover had been ripped off by his shoe, and the headline of the first page jumped out at him. He read it, his eyes widening in shock.

Sprinting back to the tent, careful to ensure the invisibility cloak was still covering him, he burst in to find Ron and Hermione at the table.

"I've got news," he said, holding up the magazine.

* * *

**Harry's POV**

"Look at this," he said, pushing the article towards them. He watched as they put their heads together and begun to read, their faces turning to shock.

'_**MINISTRY'S ATTEMPTS TO CAPTURE POTTER FAILS**_

_Yesterday, a group of workers at the Ministry of Magic, led by Dolores Umbridge, Senior Under-Secretary to the Minister, attempted to ambush Harry Potter and his companions at his location in London. _

_The Ministry had discovered his location after capturing Mundungus Fletcher, an ally of Harry Potter, who was forced to tell them all he knew after taking Veritaserum. It appears that Harry and his companions have been living in a house in London which he inherited from his late Godfather, the infamous Sirius Black (who has now been cleared of all charges). The House had been protected by the Fidelius charm, and it seems that Fletcher was a secret keeper – perhaps he was trusted by Potter, or perhaps the original secret keeper passed away – therefore, he was able to pass on this information (however unwillingly) to the Ministry. Fletcher is now in Azkaban._

_The Ministry then used this information to break the other protective charms that were warding the house – believed to be put in place throughout the years, by both Black's family and the previous secret keeper. They launched an attack using a large group of Ministry workers, which they used to their advantage by attacking from multiple places simultaneously. _

_However, the Chosen One and his companions managed to escape from right under their noses, by Apparating – which they were now able to do in the house after the protective enchantments were taken away. Their current location is unknown, but as we have had no bad news regarding them, it appears that they are safe._

_The Ministry may not have captured Potter, but they did manage to discover more information on his companions. Potter is known to be travelling with Muggle-born student Hermione Granger. However, the Ministry officials also found there were two other people – their identities are not confirmed, but there is speculation amongst the Ministry. One of them was red-headed, which led the Ministry to believe he may be a member of the Weasley family, who are known as friends of Potter. A search will be carried out of their residence to ensure no communication has occurred between them and Potter. The fourth companion was a young male, but is unidentified - there are no leads, so the official stand is that he was an old school friend, or perhaps another person in hiding who met up with them._

_Whilst we may not know who all of Potter's companions are, we urge everyone to make helping them their top priority. They have escaped the Ministry at least once, and their elusiveness serves only to show that our will to triumph over the Ministry is all that we need to win. The Ministry's failure to report this only shows their reluctance to allow the public to know what is really going on. Together, we can cast off their controlling regime.' _

"Oh," Hermione said in a small voice, whilst Ron looked queasy.

"I guess…I guess this means he didn't really do it," Hermione said. "He didn't betray us after all. And...and…"

"We've been treating him awfully?" Harry suggested, "We didn't even listen to his side of the story. We didn't give him a chance." He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"It's not your fault," Ron said, "I mean, the evidence was very convincing against him. We would have been stupid not to act on it."

"I suppose," Harry said. "But I guess this means we need to tell him the truth. And we need to make it up to him, somehow. We've been treating him like a traitor all this time, and he never even did anything wrong. He even put himself in a lot of danger to get the locket for us, and he doesn't even know what it is."

"Are you saying we should tell him?" Hermione asked.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Ron asked. "I know he didn't betray us, but can we trust him?"

"I think we can," Harry said. "He might be able to help us. His dad was close to Vol-"

"_You-Know-Who,_" Ron cut across him. His recent encounter with the Ministry seemed to bring back his fear of the name. "I don't think we should call him that."

"Okay, sorry. His dad was close to _You-Know-Who, _so he may know some more information that we don't."

"But what if he doesn't? His father fell out of favour after he failed to get the Prophecy two years ago," Ron countered.

"He may not, but I think we should still tell him," Hermione reasoned. "He's as much a part of this as we are now. And like Harry said, he was the one who got the locket. I think we owe it to him after the way we have treated him recently."

"Then maybe he can wear the locket sometimes, too. We all won't have to wear it for as long," Harry said, knowing Ron would probably welcome less time with the locket. Ron was wearing it now, and Harry knew he wouldn't be arguing as much if he wasn't wearing it – although he still wouldn't be happy with their decision.

"Okay, if you think we should," Ron said, not sounding entirely convinced. "But if it goes wrong, remember what I said."

**Draco's POV**

Draco lay on his bed, thinking about the past few weeks. The others had been ignoring him for a while now, and they did not even listen to his side of the story. He didn't try to tell them; he knew that they wouldn't listen, and that Weasley would twist his words. It annoyed him that he had put himself in danger to get that blasted locket – whatever it was – from under the Ministry's nose, and this was how he was thanked for it. He had tried to think about what the locket was, but he came up blank. All he knew was that the others took turns to wear it, and when they did they became more unpleasant than usual.

He had half a mind to leave, but there was nowhere to go, and somewhere he knew he wanted the Dark Lord gone. He wanted his family back how it was. He wanted his life back to normal. He wanted to be able to go to school and take his NEWTS, and follow his father into a high position in the Ministry. He didn't want to be hiding in tents with people who hated him and eating cheap Muggle food forever.

A cough from outside his room brought him out of his daze. He groaned and sat up, wondering what they could possibly want to say to him.

"Um…Malfoy?", Potter's voice tentatively called. He somehow knew it would be him, which was surprising; out of all three of them, he had treated Potter the worst at school.

He got up from his bed and pulled the flap, which separated his room from the rest of the tent, to the side.

"Oh look, the famous Harry Potter has decided to grace me with his presence," he said, a little more viciously than he intended. "What do you want?"

Potter cleared his through. "Well…"

"Oh, spit it out," Malfoy said, annoyed.

"We know it wasn't you."

"_What?"_

"Well, um… I found an article, and it turns out it was actually Mundungus who gave us up. You know, the man that told us it was Umbridge who took the locket. He was forced to tell them with Veritaserum. I guess I'm trying to say that I'm – _we're – _sorry for thinking it was you without even asking you."

"Oh," Malfoy said, shocked. He wasn't counting on them to find out the truth, and even more so, he hadn't expected them to swallow their pride and actually apologize. When Potter first came in, he had expected an argument.

"I didn't want to believe it was you," Potter continued, "but it really did seem that way. I really am…"

"Stop, stop," Draco said, holding up his hands. "You've already apologized. Don't get all sappy on me."

"Okay," Potter said, shuffling his feet on the floor. "The others wanted to apologize too. And they – we – decided to tell you something. About why we're here."

"Fine," he said. He wasn't sure how the others would act. The fact that they sent Potter ahead indicates that he was the one who really wanted to tell him, and the others weren't so sure.

"Hi, Draco," Granger said brightly. He repressed a scowl. He hated the fact that she always called him by his first name. She even did it when they were back at school and not even on speaking terms.

Harry took a seat next to Weasley, but Draco stood behind a chair, not quite wanting to sit down. He couldn't say he wasn't intrigued by what they would tell him, and whilst he wanted them to admit they were wrong – a wave of smugness rolled over him – he didn't want them to get all cheesy on him. He _hated_ that. He tapped his foot, impatiently, and crossed his arms. It didn't matter if he annoyed him now – they owed him. He had been right all along.

"I'm sorry for not trusting you. You really helped us out with getting the locket." She sent a meaningful glance at Weasley, who was avoiding looking at him. He caught her gaze and looked up.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, in an entirely unconvincing way. Seeing Granger's look again, he continued. "Thanks for helping us."

Draco sighed. "I guess it is okay. But next time, try listening to me before you jump to conclusions."

"We will," Granger said, far too happily. "Anyway, Harry decided that we should tell you what we're looking for. It's unfair for you not to know, when you've been helping us all this time."

He said nothing, but sat down in the chair opposite the three.

Granger looked at the other two, but neither was about to speak, so she decided to.

"Have you ever heard of Horcruxes?"

He was thoughtful for a minute, not wanting them to know he knew that's what they are looking for, but that he wasn't sure what they are. "I've heard the term, in passing," he said, neglecting to mention that he had heard it from them.

"Well, that's what we're looking for," she said, looking around. When Potter nodded to indicate that she should continue, she explained it.

"A Horcrux is a part of someone's soul – there's a way of splitting your soul and hiding it in an object to keep it safe. If you have Horcruxes, you cannot die, unless all of the pieces of your soul have been destroyed."

"So…you're saying the Dark Lord has split his soul?" Draco asked. "We're searching for pieces of it?"

"Essentially, yes. That's why he didn't die after his curse rebounded on Harry. His body was destroyed, but his soul lived on. Then Pettigrew managed to restore him to a human body."

"Is the locket his Horcrux?" Draco asked, looking at the locket around Weasley's neck. "Wait…_Horcruxes_ you said? How many has he got?"

"Six. Well, he split his soul into seven, but the last piece is in his body. There's not six left, though."

"You've already destroyed some? Why haven't you destroyed the locket, then?" he asked.

This time, it was Potter who decided to answer. "His diary and a ring have already been destroyed. We've got the locket, so there's three more. We think one of them is his snake, Nagini – he seems strangely attached to it for someone as cold as him, doesn't he?"

"I guess," Draco said, realising something. "How are we supposed to find the rest? They could be anything at all…"

"That's what I thought, but they aren't. All the Horcruxes so far have been something important, something of great value. That locket is Slytherin's Locket – it shows his heritage. The diary was linked to the Chamber of Secrets, and the ring was also about his heritage. He had a particular interesting in the founder's items, too. We think Hufflepuff's cup may be one – it suspiciously went missing after he saw it."

"So…we're looking for a cup, another item we're not sure of, and his snake?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "The snake will be the hardest, I think, so we're leaving that until last. We're a bit stuck on the others though, so we were wondering if you might know anything."

He frowned. He racked his brain, trying to remember what his father had taught him about the founders of Hogwarts.

"What about the diadem?" he suggested. "It belonged to Ravenclaw. Or Gryffindor's sword, perhaps?"

"The sword definitely isn't," Potter said. "In fact, the sword is one of the few ways of getting rid of a Horcrux, as it has Basilisk venom in it. But the diadem… I didn't know about that, it could be one."

"But the diadem is _lost," _Granger explained. "No-one knows where it is. Many have tried, and failed, to find it."

"Okay, perhaps not. I don't think I know of anything else. Why haven't you destroyed the Locket?", he asked again, realising they never answered that question.

"Like I said, there are few ways to destroy a Horcrux. The sword has Basilisk venom in it, so we could use that, but it's in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts."

"Well, it doesn't look like we have much choice. We managed to get you into the Ministry undetected, I'm sure we can somehow get into the castle," Draco said.

"Be quiet!" Ron said. Everyone looked around in surprise, he had been quiet for so long. "I hear voices outside. I think they've been going for a while, but I've only just noticed they were voices."

Sending each other alarmed glances, the four of them pulled out their wands and crept to the entrance of the tent. Granger rummaged around in her bag, pulling out four flesh-coloured strings.

"These are extendable ears," she whispered. "Put this end over your ear."

Following Granger's instructions, he found he could hear the people outside. They stood there for what seemed like ages, listening to the group outside prepare a meal of fish from the river, and then their conversations whilst they were eating, which was mainly focused on their blood status and why they were on the run. The group appeared to be made up of two goblins and three wizards, two of which the group recognised: one was a boy in their year, a Gryffindor called Dean Thomas, and the other one was the husband of his aunt Andromeda, Ted Tonks, who he had met a few months ago after they retrieved Potter to take him to the Weasley's house.

The conversation caught their interests when the goblins began talking about the sword of Gryffindor. He pressed the extendable ear closer to him, and listened intently to what they were saying. Maybe they knew something about it that could help them?

"Snape, most likely on the orders of You-Know-Who," one of the goblins said, "got it sent to Gringotts." The two goblins chuckled together.

"I don't see the joke," Ted said.

"It's a fake!", the same goblins said. "It's an excellent fake, but it's definitely not real."

"I see," the wizard said again. "I guess you didn't tell them that?"

"I didn't see any need to," the goblin replied, and they all laughed together.

"Best move off again, I think," the wizard Draco didn't recognise said.

He listened to them putting out the fire and packing their stuff away, thinking about what they had just found out.

"Well," Potter said, after they were sure the others had gone. "It looks like we don't have to break into Hogwarts, after all."

* * *

**Sorry for the wait! My laptop suddenly broke, and I had to wait a couple of weeks for it to be fixed ):**

**I know the article doesn't sound much like the Quibbler, but since it's more serious now, it makes sense to write in a more normal way – and I couldn't get it to sound like the Quibbler did!**

**Thanks again to ToxicRainfall, and I'd also like to say a special thanks to AlineDaryen, who has reviewed every chapter :) **

**Review? **


	15. The Dispute

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter 15  
The Dispute**

* * *

**AN: Hi! Firstly, I have to apologize for the ridiculously long gap between the previous chapter and this one. Last time I updated was last summer! Since then, I began uni and my life has been so hectic! Then as it got longer I forgot the finer details and had to re-read my story, which put me off. But, I have done that, and now I'm back!**

**I recommend that you re-read the story as I have done, as it's been so long! Also, I discovered that you can change the width of the story, I never realised before. If you put it on half width, it reads just like a book :)**

**I'd like to thank those who have reviewed so far, and also to those with constructive critisism/questions, I will use these to edit a few things :****)**

* * *

~~~Last Time~~~

"Snape, most likely on the orders of You-Know-Who," one of the goblins said, "got it sent to Gringotts." The two goblins chuckled together.

"I don't see the joke," Ted said.

"It's a fake!", the same goblins said. "It's an excellent fake, but it's definitely not real."

He listened to them putting out the fire and packing their stuff away, thinking about what they had just found out.

"Well," Potter said, after they were sure the others had gone. "It looks like we don't have to break into Hogwarts, after all."

* * *

**Draco's POV**

Draco twisted and turned in his bed, trying to sleep. He couldn't help but think about what Granger had told him earlier, about the Horcruxes. Before today, he would have given anything to find out what they were, but now he wished he had never heard of them. The idea of splitting one's soul made him feel sick, he just couldn't understand how someone could do such a thing. It just seemed so…evil. Of course he knew how evil the Dark Lord was, and experienced it first hand, but he couldn't imagine him doing such a thing. It was just…unnatural. He briefly remembered the Dark Lord's reasoning, and his periods of absurdness and lack of rationality. He wondered if this was a result of splitting his soul, either the act itself (which Granger wouldn't describe, saying just thinking about it made her feel sick), or having only one seventh of his soul actually residing in his body. He also wondered if the Dark Lord could tell when the Horcruxes were destroyed, or if his soul was too damaged.

He thought of the progress the Trio had made so far. There were three Horcruxes to go, the snake, and two unknown ones. Discovering what they could possibly be seemed impossible, and breaking through the Dark Lord's enchantments seemed even more difficult. The snake posed a different problem, the Dark Lord usually kept it at his side, only occasionally sending it out to do work or gather intelligence for him (how people managed not to see a great big snake spying on them, he never worked out).

Then, there was the matter of destroying them, as they could only be destroyed by something which put them beyond magical repair, which left little to work with, and even less accessible things. The sword was in a Gringotts vault, there were thousands – how would they know which one? And everyone knew that it would be madness to try and rob a Gringotts vault, especially a high-security one which it was bound to be – Snape must have given it to another Death Eater who could be trusted. This limited the amount of vaults considerably, but the task still seemed impossible. He considered some more powerful curses his father taught him. Fiendfyre may do it, but it was extremely difficult to control and Draco wasn't sure he would be capable. It could easily get out of control and injure them, or worse. However, he kept the idea to tell the others in the morning.

He sighed, shrugging further into his bed covers. He felt so lost, it seemed so much easier when he didn't know what the Trio were doing; blindly following them and keeping out of their way was so much easier a task. He had no idea how they were supposed to manage this impossible mission. Eventually he fell asleep, his dreams haunted by shadows and Death Eaters.

He was pulled out of his dark dreams by a whispered conversation between Potter and Granger in the hall of the tent.

"Do you think we did the right thing, telling him?" Granger asked.

There was a pause, and Draco imagined both of them looking at the entrance to his room.

"Yeah," Potter's voice replied. "It's not really fair for him to risk his life just as we are, yet not know why."

"I suppose," Granger replied. There was another pause. "Ron disagrees."

"I know," Potter said, sighing, "that can't be helped. Maybe he'll come around, eventually."

"I hope so," Granger said. Then it was silent, he assumed they had both left.

He thought about Weasley, and the others. As always, he was surprised that Potter seemed to accept him more than the others, even after their famous rivalry at Hogwarts. He knew he wasn't the same person as he was back then, and he knew that the rivalry wasn't his own, more his fathers. He remembered his father's rage when he told him Potter had refused his hand (despite the fact that it was not Lucius who told him to do it, he did it of his own accord), and outrage at his fathers unfair actions and Potter's refusal began their famous enmity in earnest.

He had never really cared about the opinions of others before, as his father taught him they were beneath him, but he knew that really, he was grateful for Potter giving him a chance. Without Potter's faith that he was changed, he would've probably reverted back to his old ways. His thoughts turned back to his father, and he felt the rage burning. He could join the Dark Lord again if he wanted, but it was unfair to drag his mother with him. He just hoped they would survive the war…but he knew that he could help. By aiding the Trio's search for the Horcruxes, hopefully if they worked together they would find them quicker, and end the war as soon as possible; the sooner it ended the more likely his mother would survive. As would himself, he was a Slytherin after all. He would rather get out of the war alive, unlike his companions he wouldn't give up his own for others.

**Harry's POV**

Harry pushed the unappealing food around on his plate, not in the mood to eat. They were discussing, as always, the Horcruxes, over dinner. It had been a considerable time since they had found the locket, and they had no more leads other than Nagini, which would have to be left until last due to her close proximity, and thus protection, of Voldemort. They had a rough lead on the Sword, knowing it was somewhere in Gringotts, which was the subject of their discussion.

"There's no use," Ron said, looking glumly at his dinner.

"But we have to try," Harry said, although he shared Ron's sentiments.

"We can't give up," Malfoy said, "what do we know so far about the Sword of Gryffindor?"

"You heard what he said, Snape sent it to a vault in Gringotts," Hermione replied promptly, sounding as if they were back in Hogwarts. "Theoretically, it could be in any vault, and there's hundreds. However, it seems likely that it will be under the care of a Death Eater, more specifically, a trustworthy Death Eater. This narrows it down quite a lot."

"Hm," Harry said, "Trustworthy Death Eaters. Bellatrix, maybe the Malfoys? The diary was given to Lucius."

"Bellatrix is a definitely possibility," Malfoy replied, "but definitely not my father. The diary, as you know, was given to him several years ago, and his favour has fallen considerably since then."

Harry rattled off the names of the more prominent Death Eaters he knew of, Ron occasionally commenting on them, mainly insults, and Malfoy agreed or shook his head as Harry listed them.

"So, we're down to: Bellatrix, the Carrows, perhaps Dolohov and Yaxley," Hermione clarified once they had exhausted their knowledge of Death Eaters.

"That's five," Harry said needlessly. His heart sank at the idea of trying to break into Gringotts. He remembered Hagrid taking him in there for the first time, on his eleventh birthday, and telling him you'd have to be mad to attempt to rob it. "There's no way we can break into five separate vaults, without being detected."

"Four," Malfoy said, "The Carrows are siblings, as neither are married, they would both share the family vault."

"Well, I'm sure it can't be too difficult," Ron said sarcastically.

Malfoy, not picking up his sarcasm, retorted, "Unlike your vault, those with actual money are very secure and guarded."

Ron flushed. "I'd rather be poor than Death Eater scum," he responded, standing up. Hermione put her hand on his arm.

"Ron, sit down."

Malfoy stood up as she said this, and both made to pull out their wands.

"Why? You're not telling him to sit down," Ron replied, pulling his arm away, his eyes on Malfoy.

Harry stood up too, but did not say anything. He fingered his wand in his pocket, hoping he wouldn't have to prevent a fight.

"Yes, well," Hermione said, unsure of what to say. She couldn't tell Malfoy to sit down because she didn't feel comfortable doing so, she didn't know him as well as she knew Ron and Harry.

"I get it. You're always letting him get away with things. But when I do one thing wrong," he said, his voice rising, "I get moaned at."

"Ron," Hermione said, "You don't understand…"

"I understand more than you think!" Ron said, "I get it. You choose him over me, over your _friend. _Where would you be without me? Probably dead in the toilets back in first year!"

"That's uncalled for," Harry said, unable to stop himself. He saw Malfoy sit down, amusement in his eyes at seeing Ron worked up.

"And you!" Ron said loudly, rounding on him. "You're the one who let him stay with us in the first place! Just because you've turned a blind eye to what a git he is, doesn't mean I have! We can't trust him, yet you've told him _everything_!"

"Well, at least he's been more helpful than you have!" Harry responded with the same volume as Ron.

"You can't talk!" Ron replied, "Admit it, we have no idea what we're doing! We thought you had a plan, that Dumbledore had told you about the Horcruxes."

"I told you everything that he told me," Harry said, his voice cooling, "It's not my fault any more than it is yours."

Ron stopped, whatever retort he had planned lost.

"Fine," he said, "take this bloody thing." He ripped off the locket and stormed out of the tent.

Hermione followed him, but Harry sat down. There was no use going after him whilst both were worked up like this, it would do more harm than good, and he didn't want another confrontation. Ron was one of his best friends, and he hated to argue with him. Hermione was sure to make him see reason, as she had always been able to. He heard to cracks and assumed they had apparated somewhere more private, somewhere they wouldn't be overheard by both Harry and Malfoy.

Malfoy and Harry sat in an uneasy silence, unsure of what to say. Harry abandoned the rest of his dinner, throwing it away. He knew he would regret it later, but at the moment he did not care. He cleared up in silence, the muggle way, leaving him time to mull over the previous events.

"Do you think I was too harsh?" Harry asked after he had finished and calmed down somewhat.

"No," Malfoy replied. Of course Malfoy wouldn't think that, Harry thought, Malfoy never cared for Ron. Whilst the two of them sometimes spent time together and discussed things, Malfoy and Ron never spoke or spent time near each other when they could help it.

Another crack, and the two raced to the entrance, wands out in case of an attack. Instead, they were greeted by a sobbing Hermione.

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked.

She said nothing, but stormed past him and into her room. His heart sank; he knew that Ron had left them.

…

Muttering a half-hearted goodnight to Malfoy, he retreated to his own room. He could hear Hermione's sobs through the thin walls of the tent and it crossed his mind to comfort her, but found himself unwilling to move. Ron's desertion seemed like a betrayal, and he was in no mind to comfort Hermione, which would involve defending Ron's actions. He needed to accept it himself, first.

Harry knew Ron had been wearing the locket, and had been for most of the day. He knew from experience this did little to improve one's mood. But it was clear that Ron had been unhappy for a while, and Harry couldn't deny that Ron's argument that he should've known more about the Horcruxes didn't hurt. He wondered if the others agreed with Ron, and briefly he felt annoyed towards Dumbledore. Why hadn't he told him more? Why hadn't he given him more clues? But this anger was short lived, not even Dumbledore could foresee his early death – _murder,_ Harry thought bitterly, his thoughts turning to Snape once again.

…

The next few days passed slowly, in a solemn mood. Even Malfoy seemed affected by Ron's departure, and the three of them rarely talked. Eventually, it was time to move, as they had been in the same place far too long, secretly hoping Ron would return. They put off leaving as they knew Ron would never be able to find them after they moved, not with all their enchantments and precautions. They packed the tent as slowly as possible, and re-checked several times. They spent as long as possibly obliterating any traces of their occupation, before they were unable to drag it out any longer and there was nothing else to do.

"Goodbye, Ron," he heard Hermione whisper before they apparated away.

* * *

**Please review :)**

**I already have a plan for the next chapter, and now that I have been re-acquainted with my story, it won't be such a long wait again! Especially now it's the summer holidays until late September :)**


	16. The Hollow

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter 16**  
**The Hollow**

~~Last Time~~

They put off leaving as they knew Ron would never be able to find them after they moved, not with all their enchantments and precautions. They packed the tent as slowly as possible, and re-checked several times. They spent as long as possibly obliterating any traces of their occupation, before they were unable to drag it out any longer and there was nothing else to do.

"Goodbye, Ron," he heard Hermione whisper before they apparated away.

* * *

**Harry's POV**

It was several days before either of them felt like talking again. The absence of Ron, and knowing he could now no longer come back hung over them like a murky fog, penetrating all aspects of their daily lives. Ron's chair at the table was so obviously empty that Hermione began using it as a prop to keep one of the cupboards shut, as its constant opening and closing was more than slightly irritating. Nothing could be done about Ron's vacant bed in Harry's room however, and evenings of trying to get to sleep, staring up at the wooden bottom of the top bunk gave Harry nightmares of Ron being captured and tortured by Death Eaters, or of himself and Hermione being killed without a chance to say goodbye.

Harry wondered how Ron's reception at the Burrow would have been, and if he told the truth about why he left. Would the rest of the Weasleys support his actions? He could imagine Mrs Weasley being a little disappointed at Ron leaving Harry and Hermione, but glad to have him back and safe where she could look after him. Ron would certainly enjoy being fed Mrs Weasley's cooking after months surviving on whatever they were able to find, and Harry's mouth began watering at the thought of her homemade steak pies and treacle tarts.

Ron's leaving felt like a betrayal and stung like one, but now that Harry had calmed down, he realised he could understand where he was coming from. Ron did not ask for Malfoy to come along with them, and Malfoy had never exactly been kind to him. Unlike himself, who had shared some moments and talked about how they had treated each other, Ron had no reason to accept Malfoy at all. His own rivalry with the Slytherin was exacerbated due to other factors, such as jealousy, parental pressure and being on opposite sides of the war. But between Draco and Ron, it was rivalry and meanness just for the sake of it. As the night went on, he began to sympathise with where Ron was coming from. Maybe he could try to get Malfoy to make it up to him, somehow.

Which brought him back to the fact that Ron was gone. Who knows if they would ever see each other again? Their task ahead was dangerous and unknown, and as Lupin said, they would probably face magic they had never even imagined in their wildest dreams. Not just them, but Ron was himself in danger, as his family were 'blood traitors' and additionally, were known to be close to him – Undesirable number 1 of Voldemort's regime. And Ginny – as much as it hurt, he knew he did the right thing, breaking up with her. Who knows what lengths Voldemort and his Death Eaters would go to try to get him? If he made it through the war, which he couldn't guarantee, he would make it up to her the best he could.

Thinking of Ron and the Weasleys inevitably led him to thinking about his parents. Ever since he expressed his desire on the train ride at the end of last term to see his parents' graves, the idea has failed to let him go. He wanted to see the house, where it all ended. Would it still be standing, or destroyed by the curse as it rebounded? If so, he wondered if it would have been repaired, of if it lie in ruins. Perhaps someone else would be living there now, with their own little family. No matter what state the house was in, he wanted to see it. Then, he wanted to pay his respects to the parents he would never meet, who gave everything to help him. He wished that Sirius didn't die the way that he did, so he could be buried next to his best friend, and Harry would also be able to visit and grieve.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice drifted though from the main area of the tent, "I've made us some dinner."

It took him a few minutes to force himself off his bed, unwilling to face the others when he was in such a mood. He tried to clear his mind as he had once been taught in Snape's classroom during their unfruitful occlumency lessons, and walked to the door, taking a deep breath before he left.

**Draco's POV**

Draco was playing with his food when Granger returned, followed by Potter, looking as if someone had just strangled his favourite puppy. Weasley's absence must still be getting to him. His departure created an ever-present miserable mood, and Draco was starting to get fed up with it.

"This looks great," Potter remarked as he sat down, looking at the plate, "thanks Hermione."

He regarded Potter suspiciously whilst he ate his own meal, ensuring Potter wouldn't notice. The food looked as unattractive as ever, tasteless fish and vegetables Granger had gathered from the nearby area. It was pathetic in comparison to the delicious meals the house elves at Hogwarts served three times a day, but as he knew he would be able to do no better, he stopped criticising the food a long time ago. Weasley doing so almost every day helped, he wanted to show he was more mature than Weasley.

Therefore, he deduced Potter must be up to something. He had never been one to be subtle, and sure enough, just as they were finishing, Potter piped up, "Hermione, I want to go to Godric's Hollow."

He noticed Potter had been toying with his bottom lip, and the girl frowned, regarding him with a pitying look. Why would Potter want to go there? Sure, it was a famous – oh. He realised Potter's parents had died – no, were _murdered_ in the town, and their bodies most likely laid to rest there. Feeling sorry for Potter was certainly a strange feeling, and he felt it far more than he imagined he ever would, and more often than he cared to admit. No one, no matter who they were, deserved to have their parents taken away from them, especially at such an early age. He could sympathise with this point, as now his parents had gone back to the Dark Lord, he felt he no longer existed to them. The thought of his own family being ripped apart just like Potters was what drove him to offer his knowledge and help them on their quest to find the Horcruxes and defeat the Dark Lord.

Granger replying brought him out of his thoughts. "I'm not sure," she replied in a small voice. He could tell she wanted to let Potter see his parents, but she also had reasons not to. "Don't you think _he _would expect you to go there now you're able to do so? There might be a trap or at least some Death Eaters lurking about…"

"I know that's a possibility," Potter began, his voice becoming clearer. He imagined Potter sitting in his room and preparing what he was going to say. "But also, he doesn't understand love, or what it means to grieve. Like when he was pushed out of my mind after Sirius…maybe he won't make the connection."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Draco chimed in. "I doubt the Dark Lord has ever felt sad or guilt over another's death, even if he killed, or had them killed himself. He doesn't pity, and he definitely doesn't love anyone but himself."

"If you think it will be okay…" Granger said, although not sounding too certain.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Potter avoiding her gaze. He could tell that the other boy did not really believe that. Rather, he thought that if there was a possibility of an ambush or a trap, then it was a risk worth taking. Draco did not feel it was his place to tell Granger, so he kept quiet – although knowing her, she had probably worked it out already but was unwilling to argue.

The next few days were spent preparing for their trip to Godric's Hollow. The other two were to be disguised as a middle-aged muggle couple, whose hair they stole from a couple they discovered camping not far from where their own tent was pitched, whilst Draco was to go under Potters invisibility cloak. It would look too suspicious for three of them to appear, especially as the 'Golden Trio' was known by the Death Eaters. They weren't sure if the Death Eaters knew Weasley was with them, and that he had now left. Therefore, this plan was the best they could come up with, due to their dwindling supplies.

Eventually, on a chilly Sunday morning, they found themselves packing away their tent and possessions, ready to leave. It felt good to finally be doing something, after being stuck in the tent with nothing to do for so long, even though the task wasn't related to finding and destroying the Horcruxes.

**Harry's POV**

After all this time, he was going to see his parents. He was unsure how he felt, trying to sum up his feelings as they proceeded through the main street of the village after Apparating into an alleyway so no muggles would see.

"Oh," Harry said, passing the war memorial. Sensing the presence of wizards, the square pillar covered in names of fallen muggles from their wars transformed into a statue, depicting a small family – the Potters. The stone plaque explained how the Potters had died and their role in the ending of the Wizarding War. Harry was surprised, the statue was so unexpected. It seemed odd to see himself eternalised in stone, a innocent baby without a scar marring his forehead.

After appreciating the statue, they moved on towards the graveyard, which they spotted lurking behind the church. As they drew near, Malfoy whispered that he was going to check out the village, and Hermione nodded in confirmation, presumably to give Harry some privacy. From Hermione's nod he imagined she had suggested the idea and they had planned for him to leave. He felt grateful for Hermione, he didn't want Malfoy to be lurking whilst he was grieving.

The gate to the graveyard squeaked as it opened, sending birds flying out of the overhanging trees in a flurry of wings. This was it, he was going to meet his parents at last. The graveyard seemed much larger up close, where would they be? Most of the graves were covered in a thick blanket of snow, making their task even more difficult.

"Harry!" Hermione called after a few minutes of searching.

"Oh sorry," she apologised as he approached and read the name _Peverell _on the stone. "I thought it said Potter. Peverell…where have I heard that name before?"

Harry, not in the mood to discuss such irrelevant matters, ignored her question and continued searching. The graveyard was not set out in neat rows like the one he used to pass on the way to school when he was younger, but the graves seemed randomly placed throughout the space. Bending down to brush snow off yet another gravestone, his eyes widened as he read the inscription.

"Harry?" Hermione called, as she could no longer see him. "Oh," she squeaked as she saw him kneeling in front of a large gravestone, which on closer inspection bore both Lily and James Potter's names and dates. She caught her breath and stood a few steps behind Harry, giving him space.

Harry reached out and touched the stone, imagining the cold, hard surface was instead his parents' warm embrace. A physical ache which felt like a weight had been placed his on his heart overcome him, a feeling he felt two other times: helplessly watching Sirius falling through the curtained veil, and seeing Dumbledore's crumpled body lying broken at the foot of the astronomy tower.

Harry stared at the names represented in stone. Memories flashed: standing in front of the Mirror of Erised and seeing his parents smiling back at him, looking through the photo album Hagrid had given him as a gift, sitting with Sirius and listening to stories about his parent's Hogwarts days. For the first time in his life, let tears fall for the parents he would never meet.

After what seemed like an eternity, the tears ceased, and a wave of exhaustion rolled over him. Wiping his face with his sleeve, he stood up and indicated to Hermione that he was done. Taking one last look at the grave, he turned around and walked steadily towards the gate, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in his heart where his parents should be.


	17. The Cottage

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter 17  
The Cottage **

**A/N:** I've had a few questions about pairings, so I thought I'd clear it up - for this story, the pairings will remain canon, for the main characters at least. I may decide to change something small like have Neville/Luna instead of Hannah, but other than this I'm planning on keeping to canon.

~~Last Time~~

Harry stared at the names represented in stone. For the first time in his life, let tears fall for the parents he would never meet.

After what seemed like an eternity, the tears ceased, and a wave of exhaustion rolled over him. Wiping his face with his sleeve, he stood up and indicated to Hermione that he was done. Taking one last look at the grave, he turned around and walked steadily towards the gate, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in his heart where his parents should be.

* * *

**Harry's POV**

Neither spoke as they walked towards the fence until the gate closed behind them, creaking as it had done on the way in. There were no birds to fly away in surprise this time, and their footsteps crunched on the snow, sounding far too noisy compared to the village which now seemed eerily silent. Assuming it was due to what they had just experienced, they were surprised to find the children who were previously out playing were now no longer anywhere to be seen. Harrys' hand tightened on his wand in his pocket, and he strained his ears in case of a dementor attack.

"Where do you suppose Malfoy would be?" Hermione finally asked, breaking the tense silence.

"I'm not sure," Harry replied, his voice hoarse from crying, but Hermione tactfully pretended not to notice. "Let's head back to the main square, and decide from there."

They had only made it half way up the street however, when a yell broke the silence. Harry's head snapped up, something in the cry sounded familiar. Instinctively working out which direction it came from, he sped off down the road, turning left at the crossroad, Hermione close on his heels. He knew that running towards the sound would have ruined their disguise, and they could be running into a trap – but he had to help whoever was in trouble. He ran past identical cottages until he found one with the door ajar. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open.

**Draco's POV**

Draco wandered the streets of Godric's Hollow, unsure of where to go. Granger had approached him the previous night and suggested he left with the invisibility cloak to give Potter some privacy to grieve, and he quickly agreed – he had no desire to see Potter upset over his parents, as it would bring up fresh emotions of his own. Trying not to think, he walked the streets without paying much attention to his surroundings. After all, he was perfectly safe under Potter's invisibility cloak, and the only people around were muggle children playing on the greens.

The war memorial did not surprise Draco as much as it had Potter, as he had passed it many times on his way to visiting one of his fathers' friends who lived nearby. He was surprised however, at Potters reaction – but of course, he had never been here before. It was strange to think that Potter did not know he and his parents were eternalised in stone. Draco was lost in his thoughts, walking down a street when he suddenly stopped in his tracks, realising where he had ended up.

The house would have been similar to its neighbours, if it weren't for the top floor being almost completely blown off, assumedly a result of the rebounding curse. The damage exposed a room, a small room decorated in baby blue – the nursery. The only intact part of the wall was buckling with the weight of the remaining ceiling, looking as if it could collapse at any moment. Outside, the lawn was overgrown and unkempt; as if a reminder that no one had lived there for several years.

He stood there for an indefinable length of time, staring at the broken shell of the house. Potter should be living there, with his parents as a family. The nursery should have been re-decorated as he grew up, filled with trinkets from a happy childhood. The garden should be neat and tidy, kept by his mother, the cracks in the walls filled in by his father.

As he stared, frozen with his hand reaching out to touch the fence, a thought struck him. He wondered how many other children were in the same situation, without a family or anyone to care for them due to the Dark Lord. How many people left without brothers or sisters or husbands or wives, without grandmothers and grandfathers because they stood in the Dark Lords way, whether on purpose or just because they were _there. _He had never thought of it in such a way before, although he realised a long time ago that he didn't actually agree with his aims and methods of the Dark Lord, he had only thought about death and murder in regards to his parents. Other than that he never actually considered or thought about the fact that people die in wars. Families get ripped apart; lives are ruined due to just one unstable wizard.

Unsure of what to do now, Draco stood there, invisible, looking around. He felt as if everything should be different now, but the children were still playing, adults still pottering around in their gardens. Draco watched as a hunched figure left a nearby cottage and made its way slowly across the street, treading carefully as if they were about to fall over at any second. The longer he watched the figure, the more something seemed odd. He watched as it – she? Made her way across the square, and realised she must be going to the graveyard – where Potter and Granger were. Would their disguises protect them if she were a threat? Sure, they looked different – but they never got the hang of using different names, and they would be stood at the Potter's graves. Hoping they would be able to hold their own if she were a threat, he decided to investigate.

Ensuring the cloak was still covering him fully, he made his way to the cottage he saw her leaving. The door was not locked, so he was able to let himself in with ease. It crossed his mind that if he was wrong about her then he would be trespassing a frail elderly lady's home, but the memory of the woman shuffling along stirred something in his mind, something telling him there was more than met the eye. This spurred him on as he cast a charm to ensure no one remained in the building, before walking through the dark entrance hall.

The house was cluttered, most of the possessions covered in a layer of dust. Draco frowned, that couldn't be right. Maybe she no longer used the living room? Resting on the mantel were several photographs, which he examined, hoping they would give a clue to who she was. The first was a picture of a blond young man, someone he recognised but couldn't place his finger on. Then suddenly he was a little boy again, sitting in the study with his father in front of him, teaching him the history of the wizarding world. The happy looking boy was none other than Grindelwald, and a few years later he would be terrorizing the wizarding population of Europe. He tried to imagine the Dark Lord as a young boy and failed, it was like trying to remember something he had never been taught.

Deciding the house needed further exploration, he returned to the entrance hall and found the kitchen instead, only to find it in the same abandoned state as the living area. Even the cooker had a layer of dust, above a later of dirt and grime. He picked up an empty jar from the countertop, next to a pile of dishes. She must be a witch, a muggle would never have wizarding photographs, so surely it would just take a flick of a wand to clean them?

The table was also covered in a layer of dust, except for one thing. There was a book lying on the table with a note attached to it. Draco read the note, _Dear Batty, Thanks for your help. Here's a copy of the book - you said everything, even if you don't remember it. _Batty? That didn't sound like a name - a nickname, perhaps.

A loud hiss from behind caused him to leap in surprise and hit his knee on the table leg. Ignoring the pain, he pulled out his wand as he turned to face the intruder, to find a woman standing in front of him – the one he watched leaving the house. He still had the invisibility cloak on, so she should not have been able to see him… but before he could even open his mouth to speak, the most peculiar thing happened, freezing him in place. The woman crumpled into herself, her face collapsing and the rest of her body following suit. Then a reptilian face pushed its way through where her neck should be, followed by the body of a large snake. A snake he knew far too well –she belonged to the Dark Lord.

With a cry he pulled the cloak off, as it would do only serve to hinder; restricting his movement, and the snake would not rely on sight anyway. Firing spells as fast as he could, he tried to slip past the snake to the door, but it seemed determined to thrash about and take up as much room as possible. None of his spells seemed to be making an impact and noticing this, the snake began advancing, forcing him backwards, further and further from the door. The only windows were far too small and set into the wall close to the ceiling, unsuitable to use as a escape route. The snake suddenly darted forward, its fangs sinking into his leg. The pain consumed him, he could hear someone distantly shouting but was unable to register it as his own voice. He could see or feel nothing but the pain; he could feel it coursing through his veins like fire.

Then, so slowly he was aware, the pain began to disappear. He could hear movement nearby, as his eyesight began to return and he could make out fuzzy shapes moving around him, sharper and sharper until he could make out it was Granger, sitting next to Potter, who was lying on the floor. Relief flooded through him as he realised they were no longer in the house, but back in their tent. He was safe.

He tried to sit up, but his body would not let him. He then tried to move his arm and was rewarded with a sharp pain which made him groan. This alerted Granger that he was awake, and she came rushing over, abandoning her watch of Potter, who appeared to be asleep.

"You're awake."

"What happened?" He asked, trying to remember the last few hours. It felt much colder than it had been earlier, was it night time already? How long had he been out for?

"You were attacked by Nagini, You-Know-Who's snake. She's venomous. I managed to get most of it out of your system, but your body is weak from trying to fight it, so you won't be able to move much the next few days. You were sleeping for a few hours, its early evening."

Again, he tried to remember what had happened. He recalled the elderly lady crumpling, the snake coming out of her. Then pain – and a pale, white face looming from the darkness. "_He _was there, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he turned up just after me and Harry did. We managed to get out just in time."

"What's wrong with Potter?" He asked, for the first time noticing his absence.

Granger bit her lip. "I'm not really sure. When You-Know-Who turned up, he went…funny. I've checked him over and he's fine, he's just asleep. There's nothing I can do but wait for him to wake on his own and hope he's okay."

"Oh," Draco said. "Wait, you managed to get all of us away from the Dark Lord alone? And heal me yourself?"

"Yes," Granger said, looking away.

He imagined her sitting beside him as she had with Potter when he woke up, her wand out and muttering complex spells to draw the poisons out, a frown on her face. He thought back to all those times he was mean to her just because she did better in classes than him. Who knew, all these years later, that she would save his life, not just once, but several times? She saved him from right under the Dark Lord's nose, Merlin knew how.

"Thanks," he said, giving her a small smile.

"It's nothing," Granger said, "That's what friends are for."


	18. The Interlude

**Switching Sides**  
**The Interlude**

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Uni is over for summer now and although I'm going travelling in a couple of weeks I will hopefully have a few more chapters done by then. I've spent a few days planning the whole of the rest of the story and I feel better now that I know what's going to happen, and I've bridged some mistakes I've made with the plot without having to go back and actually change what I've written, so hopefully I should find the rest easier to write. I'm planning on improving the previous chapters and address any issues that have been pointed out to me, and also I'll begin answering any questions from reviews in the next chapter. The title for this chapter was going to be 'the calm before the storm' but I changed it to fit in with the rest of my titles. Lots of POV changes in this one.

~~Last Time~~

"Thanks," he said, giving her a small smile. Who knew, all these years later, that she would save his life, not just once, but several times? She saved him from right under the Dark Lord's nose, Merlin knew how.

"It's nothing," Granger said, "That's what friends are for."

* * *

**Harry's POV**

Harry woke up covered in sweat, trying to block out what he had just seen. When he saw Voldemort, something strange happened with his scar – he remembered the pain vividly, it felt as if it had burst open. He was thrown into Voldemort's unprotected mind, who was remembering the last time he had been in Godric's Hollow – many years earlier, on that Halloween night which ruined him. Harry was forced to watch as Voldemort strode down through the village with an air of cool purpose, just as they had done an hour or so earlier, albeit for contrasting goals. He found himself unable to look away as Voldemort killed his father, nor could he close his ears when his mother pleaded for him to spare Harry before her own life was taken so cruelly and unnecessarily. He closed his eyes and tried to push the images to the back of his mind, half-heartedly wishing he had tried harder at occlumency.

Trying to focus on other matters, he wondered how long he had been asleep, but realised he was in the living area of the tent, which had no windows to help him. He saw a blurry figure at the other end of the room, and assumed it was Hermione. Before trying to sit up, instinctively he reached into his pocket but found it empty. A blind panic rose up in him, his wand was not there.

"Hermione? Where's my wand?" He muttered, his voice weak.

"Harry?" She asked, turning towards him, unsure if she had heard him talk. "You're awake!"

"Where's my wand?" He repeated urgently.

"Oh, Harry," she replied, sitting down next to him, a frown on her face. He recoiled, bad news was coming. "You – you dropped it when _He_ appeared, before you started…"

"It's gone?"

"I'm so sorry. After you dropped it, I tried to pick it up but I accidentally knocked it under the kitchen counter instead. I wasn't able to retrieve it; I barely managed to get you and Draco out of there in time."

"Oh. Thanks," he said, standing up.

"Where are you going?" The concern was apparent in her voice, but Harry ignored it.

"For a walk. Can I borrow your wand?"

"Um, sure," Hermione said, reluctantly handing it over. She knew Harry would go whether or not she agreed, that if Harry was going out of their protective enchantments, then he would need it more than she would. Still, it felt as if she was giving away part of herself, and she couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose your wand completely.

Harry stormed out of the tent, stomping his feet harder than necessarily as he weaved through the trees. He was angry and frustrated that his wand had gone – they were in a middle of a war, and he was Undesirable number one! How was he supposed to survive without a wand? His wand had protected him so many times – in the graveyard, in the flight to the Burrow. Now he was wandless he felt weak and vulnerable, like a turtle without a shell, waiting for a predator to come and best him. Not only was it a weapon, but his wand was so much more. It was his connection to the wizarding world, it marked him out as a wizard. It was a part of him, a part he had not realised he needed so much until it had gone.

As he walked deeper and deeper into the woods, his mind began to clear and he felt guilty for being angry at Hermione. He knew it wasn't her fault that he had lost his grip on his wand when the vision began, so he shouldn't blame her. She had tried to get it back but ultimately, he was glad he was alive, rather than the alternative if she had delayed their exit to retrieve his wand. He knew he should go back and apologize, and knew it was right, but he lingered in the woods for some time, reluctant to admit his mistake to his friend. The wind began to pick up speed, and he wrapped his arms around himself, attempting to keep in the warmth. Litter blew around him, most probably left by muggles passing through. He noticed a newspaper a short distance from him, and grabbed it. It was a simple muggle newspaper, but it was not news he was looking for. The date read _24__th__ December 1997" _and although he couldn't tell if the newspaper was from today, he could tell it was recent nevertheless. This new fact in his mind, he headed back to the tent with renewed vigour.

**Draco's POV**

Draco came out of his room just in time to witness Potter leaving – so he was finally awake. He seemed in no great mood and had left Granger looking small in the doorway. Unsure of what to do, he retreated back to his room before she spotted him. Despite their previous conversation, he was not ready to spend more time than necessary with her, especially alone – he had no idea how to talk to someone who his parents taught him to hate on principle. He hoped that Potter and Granger would not stop talking to each other – this would put him in a very awkward position and make the atmosphere even more down. Although it had improved somewhat since Weasley had left several weeks ago, it still weighed down on them like a fog. He wished he were back at home – but he had come so far in the past few months that he could no longer imagine himself living at home with his parents, agreeing with them about everything and living peacefully.

Hearing Potter return, he made no move to get up from his bed. Why did Potter and his friends have to be so dramatic with each other? His friends at Hogwarts were never like this, getting involved in squabbles – he thought Gryffindors were supposed to be loyal. Well, it was just another thing which turned out not to be true under closer observation, people are never as simple as they appear.

**Harrys POV**

He hovered outside the tent door for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. _Come on Harry,_ _you've faced dragons and Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. You can apologize to a friend. _ Gathering up his courage and swallowing his pride, he stepped forward into the tent. Hermione was sitting on the floor, cross legged in the middle of the tent. She was frowning into space, no doubt reflecting on everything which had happened since last summer – so much had happened in such a short space of time. She looked up has he entered, a guarded expression on her face.

"Hermione," he said, approaching her and sitting in front of her. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok," she said quickly.

"No, it's not," Harry continued, looking down at her wand, still in his hands. "I was wrong to have talked to you like that. I know it wasn't your fault; you did your best to help. Thank you for saving us, I don't know what we would do without you."

"Do you mean that?" She said, looking up. Tears were swelling in her eyes, and she looked down as they began to escape and roll down her cheeks.

"Of course I do."

"But…I didn't stop Ron getting away. I couldn't save your wand, I didn't notice the charms had been broken back at Grimmauld place…"

She began sobbing in earnest now, and Harry felt awkward – he had no idea how to deal with crying girls. But Hermione was his friend, and he would be there for her when she needed him. He reached forward and embraced his friend, making sympathetic noises and rubbing her back the way he had heard Aunt Petunia comforting Dudley with through the walls of his cupboard when he was younger. He sat with her, ignoring his arm that had gone numb, until the tears stopped.

"I'm sorry," she began, wiping her eyes, but Harry cut her off.

"Don't apologize," he said quietly, remembering how she had pretended not to notice his hoarse voice after their visit to the graveyard, "everyone's allowed to be upset."

He pulled her wand from his pocket and handed it over to her. "Thanks for letting me borrow it."

**Draco's POV**

"What's this?" Draco said, walking into the main area of the tent, having left them time to talk and be dramatic, which he assumed they had. Potter and Granger sprung apart, and he tried not to smirk, their closeness was not what he was referring to.

"In your hand," he clarified, pointing to the paper on the ground nex to Potter, who blushed. "Is there news?"

"No," Potter replied, standing up to face him, he had forgotten all about the paper. "Not news, it's a muggle paper. I saw this and noticed the date – if this is today's paper, it's Christmas day tomorrow!"

"Let me see," Draco said, taking the paper from Potter. He stared at the front page – an article about the murder of a muggle family he had a horrible suspicion was the work of the Dark Lord – and recognised it, he had seen a balding man in Godric's Hollow reading it outside his house. "You're right, it's today. That means Christmas is tomorrow."

They stood in silence for a moment, all taking it in. It seemed odd that such a normal holiday was taking place when the circumstances were so bizarre. Draco thought back to the Christmas parties his father held, he never really liked them but never would have believed it if someone told him he would be spending his Christmas holidays with Potter and co., in a tent somewhere in Britain, hunting down the soul fragments of the Dark Lord. No, he never would've thought.

**Harrys POV**

The next morning saw Harry waking bright and early, excited about the day ahead. The previous evening the three of them decided to celebrate Christmas the best they could despite their circumstances, and had begun preparations. Although it would be a far cry from the lavish parties Malfoy was used to or the close, family affairs Hermione had with her parents, Harry was looking forward to spend some time to enjoy themselves, without worrying about the Horcruxes or feeling down over Ron's departure.

Harry dressed in warm clothes and went into the living area of the tent, surprised to see Hermione was already awake. She was kneeling down on the floor, a small spruce tree propped up with magic in front of her, a messy pile items beside her.

"Nice tree," Harry said, taking a seat next to her and looking through the items she had collected.

"Those are for decorating," she explained as he picked up a pinecone. "I thought we'd wait until Draco is up and we can decorate it together. The tree isn't ready just yet." Pointing her wand at the tree, it began to expand until it was almost reached the top of the tent.

"Non-verbal charms?" Harry said, astonished. He had never managed to perform a spell without saying it, despite the many lessons they had about it last year at Hogwarts.

"Impressive," Malfoy said, strolling in. Harry was surprised to hear no hint of sarcasm in his voice. "It gives you an advantage in a duel if the enemy doesn't know what you're about to do."

"Thanks," Hermione mumbled, embarrassed and as confused as Harry was about the praise.

After a quick breakfast, the three began to decorate the tree, transfiguring the items Hermione had gathered into different colours and shapes, Harry borrowing Hermione's wand occasionally to change something. He was particularly proud of a red and gold shining bauble he had made, when Malfoy challenged him and made a Slytherin equivalent.

"Ouch," Malfoy said, rubbing his head his bauble had fallen and hit him. Harry tried not to laugh as Malfoy looked confusedly at the tree to work out where it had come from, when another hit him on the arm.

"Harry," Hermione scolded, as Malfoy's eyes met his. For a moment he looked annoyed, then a mischievous smile appeared on his face. Soon the boys were pelting each other with everything they could reach, Hermione withdrawing to the corner, pretending to be annoyed but secretly happy that they were getting along so well, it appeared that Malfoy decided to put aside his feeling to enjoy today.

Suddenly there as a loud crash as the tree fell to the floor, the decorations they had used flying everywhere. The boys looked up at Hermione with sheepish expressions, when she burst into a fit of giggles.

"You know, this reminds me of the time my mother accidentally set the Christmas tree on fire," Hermione laughed, launching into the story, followed by roars of laughter from Harry. The day passed quickly, telling silly stories about their childhoods and eating a special dinner Hermione had cooked up with what she could manage. Harry went to bed that night feeling the best he had since they had left The Burrow.

The good mood continued for the next several weeks. With fresh minds they renewed their discussions about possible locations of the Horcruxes and Gryffindor's sword, as well as what forms the remaining Horcruxes could take. Although they did not have many new ideas, they looked at what they did know with different perspectives and considered information they had previously overlooked, and Malfoy offered all of his knowledge about several artefacts he had learned from his father from half remembered history lessons when he was younger. Despite the subject matter and their lack on new leads the atmosphere remained light as the good spirits lingered.

It was during a particularly loud discussion about the founders items when they heard a familiar voice outside, shouting their names. Malfoy and Hermione grabbed their wands and the three of them rushed to exit their tent, scanning the area intently. A tall figure appeared just outside the wards Hermione had placed when they first arrived, and stepping forward Harry's eyes met a familiar blue.

"Fancy meeting you here," Ron said, his face lit up with a grin.


	19. The Reunion

**Switching Sides  
****The Reunion**

**A/N: **The formats a little different in this one as there's no POV changes. It just didn't seem to fit. Also, I apologize for the wait, the next one is currently in the works so shouldn't be too long.

~~~Last Time~~~

It was during a particularly loud discussion about the founders items when they heard a familiar voice outside, shouting their names. Malfoy and Hermione grabbed their wands and the three of them rushed to exit their tent, scanning the area intently. A tall figure appeared just outside the wards Hermione had placed when they first arrived, and stepping forward Harry's eyes met a familiar blue.

"Fancy meeting you here," Ron said, his face lit up with a grin.

* * *

**Harrys POV**

They all stood there for several moments, staring at Ron in a shocked silence.

"We should go inside, it's not safe out here," he said, peering around at the trees surrounding their campsite as if he was half expecting someone to jump out at them.

Hermione did not say anything in response, but raised her wand and mumbled some spells Harry had never heard of, presumably allowing Ron to enter their wards. Once she brought her wand down he thanked her, walking past them into the tent. Everyone followed, Hermione leaving some distance between them. Once they were all settled down in the living area, Harry couldn't help but notice that he appeared to be the only one eager to talk to Ron and discuss everything which had happened since he had left. Hermione was glaring at him with such ferocity that he was reminded of sixth year with the Lavender fiasco, and predictably Malfoy did not seem happy about his return. Harry wondered how Ron would react to their growing closer over the past few weeks, and how this would affect Malfoy's contribution to the group.

"I'm sorry," were the first words to come out of his mouth, surprising Harry. As much as he cared for Ron, he knew he could be annoyingly stubborn at times. "I wanted to come back as soon as I left – but I ran into a group of snatchers. Took me a few days to escape, and by that time you had moved. I had no way to find you."

"Snatchers?" Harry voiced what they were all thinking.

"They're groups of people who round up muggle-borns and other _undesirables_. Mainly for money, they're not very bright but can be a right nasty piece of work. Barely managed to escape, I wrestled one to the ground and took my wand back, as well as his – hopefully he won't be hurting anyone else any time soon."

"So how did you get back?" Malfoy enquired, eyeing Ron suspiciously. "How did you know where we were?"

"Don't worry, there's nothing wrong with your protections. It's all because of this," Ron said, pulling the Deluminator out of his pocket. The three listened intently as he recounted the story; they had never heard anything like it.

"So, what have you three been up to?" he asked after they finished taking in the strange story. "Have you made any progress with the Horcruxes?"

"Not really," Harry sighed. "But we did have a close call in Godric's Hollow," he said, launching into the story and outlining their discussions about the Horcruxes and the sword.

"Wow," Ron let out a low whistle. "But how did you find out about the taboo?" he asked, noticing Harry had avoided saying Voldemort's name during his account.

"The taboo?" Malfoy asked, sitting up. Ron looked him in the eye.

"On You-Know-Who's name."

"That's so clever," Hermione whispered, causing everyone looked at her; it was the first time she had spoken since Ron's return.

"Why?" Harry said, confused, looking between her and Ron.

"Only those who weren't afraid of standing up against You-Know-Who called him by his name. It was only you, the Order and Dumbledore who didn't. Saying the name breaks any protective enchantments around you, you'll find yourself ambushed. They almost got Kingsley last week, dragged him halfway to Azkaban before he managed to escape."

Another silence ensued as Harry reflected on this new information. It was hard to imagine Kingsley being attacked, he seemed such a great Auror. _So was Mad-eye _the bitter voice in his head told him. It made him feel weak and exposed, if grown Aurors can barely escape, how did the four of them expect to? They don't know anything about what they are up against, other than the Horcruxes. He made a mental note to ask Malfoy something later.

"You wouldn't believe the state everything is in," Ron said grimly, pausing. He didn't want to have to be the one bringing bad news, but it was important that they knew. "The Muggle-born register was just the start of it. The Dementors have completely joined You-Know-Who's side, and the muggles don't know what's hit them; they have no idea what to make of the surge of what appears to be brain-dead people. The Wizarding World is in chaos, too – Fred and George have shut down their shop, they're in hiding with the rest of my family at Muriel's. Half of Diagon alley is shut down, Dark Arts shops are popping up everywhere. People keep their heads down and stay at home; no one knows who they can trust. The Order is trying the best they can, but frankly, they're falling apart."

Ron sank down lower in his chair as he finished his explanation, as if it physically exhausted him.

~S~S~S~S~S~

Later that evening, Harry took the opportunity to approach Malfoy when Ron and Hermione were busy cooking dinner. He hoped the two could use his absence to talk, he could tell Hermione was still hurt by Ron's leaving and that only Ron would be able to comfort her.

"Malfoy?" Harry called quietly, approaching the entrance to his room.

There was a rustle of noise from inside as the canvas was pulled up.

"Potter."

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Harry asked politely. He had no idea whether this idea would work, he was unsure of how much tutorage Malfoy had had from his father, or how willing he would be to share this.

"You already are," Malfoy said, but he stepped aside and let Harry enter his makeshift room.

"When Ron was talking about the current state everything's in, it made me realise how unprepared we are for all of this. We have no idea what we're up against. Not only has the enemy had much more training than we have, hardly any of our Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers were competent, not to mention most can do non-verbal spells."

"Where are you going with this?" Malfoy asked, sitting down onto his bed, his hands in his lap.

"I was wondering – hoping – you knew more about this than we do. If you could help us learn to counter some of the - erm - _darker _spells we weren't taught about at school."

"And naturally you assumed I would be well versed in Dark Magic?"

"Well, um, yeah," he said lamely. "Well, I wasn't sure, but I thought I'd give it a shot. I feel so naïve when I think about how much little I know about what we're up against."

"Fine," Malfoy sighed, "I don't know much, but I'll try and teach you about what I know."

Over dinner, Harry suggested the idea to the others. He found himself nervously watching Hermione and Ron, unsure of how they would react. Learning to defend against dark spells required learning _about _the spells, and whilst they wouldn't actually be performing them themselves, he wasn't sure they would be entirely comfortable with the idea.

He needn't have worried however, as after short consideration both agreed, although Hermione looked less sure than Ron, who was eager to do all he could to be part of the group again. Not to mention that seeing the state of the wizarding world shocked him and made him more determined to do all he could to bring down You-Know-Who. He had heard stories from his mother, but nothing compared to seeing it first hand, and how it affected his family.

Ron suddenly jumped up and ran back into their shared room where he had deposited his bag earlier, emerging with a couple of objects.

"I should have done this earlier. This is the wand I got from the snatchers," he said, handing it to Harry, who took it cautiously. It was significantly shorter than his, and made from a lighter wood. He wondered what the core was. "Hermione mentioned that you lost yours in Bathilda's house when you were attacked."

"Thanks," Harry said, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Malfoy was looking down, his face red. Harry realised after the incident that Malfoy was embarrassed that she had managed to sneak up on him and attack, when he should have been on his guard.

"I also have this," Ron continued, holding up a book with a grim expression. The title read _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore. _"Muriel brought it for Fleur for Christmas. Why she thought she would enjoy it is beyond me. She had one look at the first page and never opened it again. I imagine it's not very nice, but I thought it could be useful to see what lies she made up about him."

"I don't want to read it," Harry replied, regarding it as if it were a dead, rotting animal. Ron shrugged and placed it on the counter, where it was ignored for the rest of the evening.

~S~S~S~S~S~

"Ok. First things first," Malfoy addressed them the next morning; they were gathered around him just outside the tent, within the wards, "my father did not tutor me in the Dark Arts. Sure, he was more _liberal _with his magic than most others, but he did not specifically teach me any of this. I'm not sure whether it was because they're extremely difficult to learn, especially for children, or due to morals, but nevertheless that is irrelevant. I have picked up some things, especially last year. It's not a lot, but I suppose it's better than nothing."

Hermione shuffled, looking uncomfortable with the idea of learning such information. Harry was not the only one to notice, but as she didn't speak up, Malfoy continued.

"The most striking difference between the way your Order and the Death Eaters fight is the severity of the spells. A lot of the Order are, or were, aurors, whose work is regulated by the government. From what I could gather, both the aurors and the others tend to stick to the Auror Code of Conduct."

"What is that?" Harry asked, never had heard the phrase before.

"Well," Hermione explained, "the muggle police can't just do anything they want, can they? They are governed by a strict set of rules and regulations explaining what they can and can't do, and in what situations. My assumption is that the Aurors have similar rules, although I am not entirely sure what they are."

"That is true," Malfoy nodded at Hermione. "The Death Eaters have no such rules. They have different levels of skill, and of knowledge of the Dark Arts, but they will never hesitate to use the strongest spells they can."

Malfoy went on to explain some common types of dark curses, his face darkening as he discussed the more severe ones. Harry had no idea most existed, and couldn't help but shudder when Malfoy mentioned a curse that rots you from the inside out.

Despite the horrifying information they were learning, the group managed to get along quite well. Ron seemed willing to overlook his dislike for Malfoy, their recent brushes with danger making him realise their safety was much more important than personal issues. Harry couldn't help but admire Ron for doing so, he had much less of a reason to trust Malfoy than Harry did, and thought him brave for it. He seemed a lot more mature than the Ron who left them over a month ago. Harry hoped this almost treaty between them would last, as they worked a lot better when they worked as a team than they could ever manage alone.

Several hours later, they returned to the tent, exhausted from practicing manoeuvres and different kinds of shield charms. Harry had only taught the most common shielding charms to the DA, but Draco suggested they branch out and learn more specific ones. Whilst more difficult to use in battle as it required knowledge of the opponents spells, they were a lot stronger. For example, a shield made of water would dispel fire based curses a lot better than a normal _protego, _or than a simple water charm.

The next several days passed in blur. They would spend the day time working on their dueling skills, and the evenings discussing the Horcruxes, or when there was nothing new to say they moved towards discussing the way Death Eaters fought, especially the stronger, more powerful Death Eaters, who Malfoy knew close enough to explain their fighting styles.

It was exhausting work, but hopefully it would help them in the battle that was inevitably drawing closer.


	20. The Symbol

**Switching Sides**

**Chapter 20  
****The Symbol**

~~~Last time~~~

The next several days passed in blur. They would spend the day time working on their dueling skills, and the evenings discussing the Horcruxes, or when there was nothing new to say they moved towards discussing the way Death Eaters fought, especially the stronger, more powerful Death Eaters, who Malfoy knew close enough to explain their fighting styles.

It was exhausting work, but hopefully it would help them in the battle that was inevitably drawing closer.

* * *

It had been only a week since Ron had returned, yet the group had improved their skills in recognising and defending against darker spells considerably. Ron was surprisingly proficient, in particular at defending lethal spells, motivated by the desire to protect his family and friends. Hermione however felt uncomfortable with the idea of learning about darker magic than they were taught at school. It went against her thirst for knowledge she had always shown, but her morals were more important to her in this instance. Being a muggle-born, she had grown up with the idea of witches and wizards being evil – something you dressed up as for Halloween. She felt that learning about this type of magic fed to that idea, and that was not someone who she wanted to be. So, when Draco was teaching them how to counter some of the more questionable spells, Hermione instead preferred just to watch the boys whilst reading one of her books on defence so she could learn defensive spells more suited to her. Today, they were having a break after almost a week of extensive training. None of them were very fit physically, and the casting and moving involved with spells had exhausted them, both in mind and body.

**Draco's POV**

"Do any of you know what this means?" Granger said, turning the book she had been reading upside down to show Draco, the first to approach. She jabbed her finger to a word where the 'A' was replaced with a strange symbol. "I've seen it somewhere before," she said, chewing her lip as she cast her mind back. "It was in the book, the one Dumbledore left me."

Draco peered at the symbol she had pointed to. It appeared almost to be a triangular eye, with a line splitting it in half. He had a feeling he had seen that symbol before. But where?

"Here it is," Granger said, pulling a book out the bag she had been rummaging in, as the other two approached, they had been playing a game of exploding snap. "This book." He recognised it as the one she had been left in Dumbledore's will.

She lifted it up to show them as she found the right place, there was no mistaking that it was the exact same symbol.

"I've seen this symbol before."

The others turned around to look at him. "Where? What does it mean?"

He cast his mind back. He had seen it briefly, so many years ago, and not thought it important at the time. "I think it has something to do with Grindelwald."

"Oh!" Potter announced, "Krum said that at Bill's wedding. Luna's dad was wearing it, and Krum was offended, he said it was a mark of Grindelwald."

"But then why would Luna's dad be wearing it? And why would it be in a book about Dumbledore?" Weasley frowned.

Granger shuffled, looking uncomfortable. "According to this book…Dumbledore and Grindelwald were friends when they were younger."

"_What?" _Potter shouted. "It's just rubbish Skeeter made up. How could you believe that?" he said, looking offended at the idea.

"Umm," Granger looked back at the book, which was still open facing Draco. He saw what she was looking for easily. The symbol he had seen was at the end of a passage, written in loopy writing, much different from the rest of the book. Although he hadn't had received any private correspondence from the Headmaster, he recognised the script as his handwriting.

"It's a letter," he announced, scanning the contents, frowning as he read what it said. "Hand written and signed by Dumbledore. I don't think there is any way to make this up."

"He's right," Granger agreed. "They were friends. And…for a bit, Dumbledore agreed with him that …that they should dominate the muggles and be in power."

"I can't believe this," Potter said, moving to sit on the sofa, a stunned expression on his face. Weasley looked equally as shocked.

Draco pulled out a chair and sat down at the table he had been standing in front of as the familiar wave of guilt washed over him. If he hadn't let the Death Eaters into the castle that night, then the Headmaster would still be alive to answer such questions. He couldn't deny it was a shock for him, to find that the Headmaster had thought in a similar way to not one, but two dark lords. How could the Dumbledore that he knew, the muggle-lover that his father had held in such disdain, actually discuss exercising power over them? What had changed, to turn his mind away, towards the complete opposite direction? He knew they would never find out.

What if the past had been different, if Dumbledore had never realised the error of his ways? He shuddered, he had heard stories about Grindelwald's reign of terror on the continent, thankfully he had never been interested to extend it to Britain. He tried to imagine Dumbledore by Grindelwald's side, fighting to assert their control over the muggles and with that, the rest of the wizarding world.

He gasped as an image flashed in his mind.

He knew who was in the photo, the boy Potter had described he had dreamt about. He had been having nightmares – or visions, he was told – from the Dark Lord, about what he was feeling. Potter had described the Dark Lord's obsession with a boy, although he had no idea who he was or why the Dark Lord was so intent on finding him.

"I had forgotten until now. At…at Godric's Hollow. Bathilda had a photo of a man, and I recognised him. It was Grindelwald."

He saw Potter look up at him, confused as to where he was going with this.

"You told us your odd dreams, about the Dark Lord's obsession with a boy. That was Grindelwald, when he was younger."

"Why would V-You-Know-Who want Grindelwald for? Is he still alive?"

"He's still alive," Weasley piped up. "He's imprisoned in Nurmengard, the prison he built for his enemies. He must be really old now, I think."

"About the same age as Dumbledore, probably," Potter replied bitterly. He must have been really affected by the news, Draco thought. It concerned him enough to hear of it, and he never liked the Headmaster personally. But Potter had seemed very close to him, and there were rumours he was teaching him personally how to duel – although since he had found out that these were the lessons Potter was informed about the Dark Lord and his Horcruxes, not training him to fight.

"Maybe Grindelwald has knowledge he doesn't," Weasley suggested.

"No," Potter shook his head. Draco agreed, he couldn't imagine the Dark Lord searching out another for information. He was too stubborn, and thought himself too good for such a thing.

"In the vision, the memory _he _has been dwelling on, it looked like the boy – Grindelwald, I mean – had took something. I didn't see what it was, so something small enough to be easily concealed."

Draco paced the small open space of the tent as he mulled over what such an item could be. The others sat almost in silence for nearly ten minutes, before Granger spoke. "I think we should go and see Mr Lovegood."

"What?" the three boys, including Draco asked, looking at Granger as if she had sprouted an extra head.

"Why would you want to see that nutter?" Weasley muttered from the sofa where he had took a seat next to Potter.

"Well," Granger said, her voice taking on the lecturing tone Draco had become accustomed to, "he knows about Grindelwald's mark, well enough to wear it. If we question him, it might give us a clue as to why You-Know-Who is so interested in him."

Draco pondered the thought, "I guess we could give it a try. Do you know where he lives, though?" he questioned, remembering the problem of not being able to find Umbridge's address and being forced to go to the Ministry instead to retrieve the locket.

"He leaves near The Burrow," Weasley said.

"Why do you look so sad for? You've just spent a lovely holiday there," Granger shot at Weasley's frown. She was clearly still hurt from his departure and had no problems showing so. Draco was actually surprised with the other boy's behaviour since he had returned. He seemed to have matured and would listen to Draco's advice without trying to pick fights, even though with what they were currently studying there would be no lack of opportunity for insults to Draco's family for knowing such magic, if he had wanted to. He seemed a bit put out by the fact the three had grown closer in his absence, but he did not point this out or hold it against them, even though it seemed he did not personally want to do the same with Draco.

"I didn't," Weasley replied, looking up at the girl, "They would've killed me if they knew I abandoned you lot! No, I went to Bill and Fleur's new place."

"Oh," Granger replied, a blush forming on her cheeks, "I'm sorry. Have – have you heard any news?"

"Bill brought me up to date. They've all had to stop working and moved to the Muriel's, even Dad. I think they're protected by the Fidelius Charm, Bill hasn't heard anything from them for a while as it's hard to communicate when the Ministry is watching everyone's every move."

"I'm sure they are doing fine," Granger reassured, sending a smile to Weasley.

"So, about Lovegood?" Potter asked, clearly eager to interrupt, preventing his friend from dwelling on his family. Draco had long since learned that dwelling on what could happen in the future, or what has already happened, will bring nothing but pain and uncertainty. Not that he'd managed to kick the habit himself, though.

"It's getting late," Granger replied, stifling a yawn with her hand. "Let's visit him tomorrow."

"Just like that?" Draco interrupted. "What's the plan? It's a little short notice!"

"Plan?" Potter said. Draco rolled his eyes at the display of typical Gryffindor rashness. "We'll just turn up and ask to speak to him."

"It's too dangerous," Draco replied sternly. "We can't just go gallivanting off to see people in this climate!"

"I suppose you're right," Potter resigned in agreement. "So, what would you propose?" he asked, moving to the table, Weasley following him. Granger pulled out a piece of parchment and they began discussing Lovegood, what they knew about him, what possible protective measures he may have and how to avoid these.

* * *

The next morning, the four of them reviewed the plan as they prepared for the day. It was simple really, two of them – Harry and Hermione, the former would be most interesting to Xenophilius, and the latter because she was the most interested in the mystery – would visit the man and inquire about the symbol. The other two would stay outside, concealed under the invisibility cloak which just about fit over them if they stood still, a far cry from their early Hogwarts years where the three of them could walk around under it. If anything seems suspicious, they would be there to alert the other two. Harry didn't see why there would be any trouble visiting Xenophilius Lovegood, as Ron said he was still publishing the Quibbler against the Death Eaters, urging people to support Harry, despite putting himself at risky by doing so.

A short while later, they had apparated near Ottery St Catchpole and were walking towards an oddly shaped house. Draco and Ron found a nook by a window, looking into the living room, where they stood, concealed. Hermione and Harry made their way to the door, knocking politely and ignoring the strange state of the garden, leaving no clue there was more than two of them present.

For a while, all was calm. Draco could not risk conversation with Weasley in case of hidden security, but watched the events in the house. He could not hear the conversation they were having once the man invited them inside (although hesitantly, he noticed – that seemed odd seeing as he was telling the wizarding community to support Potter still) but he could observe them. Weasley was facing the other way, towards the garden, in case anyone else turned up. He watched as the older man sat them down on some hideously patterned sofas, before getting up and disappearing for a few minutes out of a back door. He returned only a couple of minutes later, but nevertheless Draco found this odd. He risked a whisper to Weasley to tell him so. They needed to stay extra vigilant.

Inside the house, Draco saw the three of them looking at a book – the same one Granger had shown them the previous day. She seemed to be reading aloud, which perplexed Draco – why were they having what seemed like story time?

Then it happened. The unmistakable crack of apparition pierced through the air. Two men appeared, in the robes of ministry workers, but Draco recognised the taller man as a Death Eater. He touched Weasley's arm, preventing him from attacking immediately. They would attack best once the two men had gone past and they could strike from behind. He knew it was a Slytherin tactic, but now was not the time to play nice. He risked a glance inside and saw the two looking up, shocked – they had heard it too. Xenophilius had stood up and was blocking the exit, his wand trained on them. He was saying something, suddenly looking deranged.

The two men looked around, and satisfied they were alone, cast a couple of quick spells whilst walking determinedly towards the door.

"He says he's with Potter. I bet it's a load of rubbish," one said.

"He's just making up lies so we give his daughter back," the Death Eater one replied, smirking at the thought. They have the girl? Draco realised; they're probably trying to blackmail him – that's why he is handing over Potter and Granger.

They had passed into the threshold, and Draco motioned at Weasley to follow him. It was very difficult to move freely, they have to crouch down to stay under the cloak.

The Lovegood's entrance hall was cluttered, making it difficult to follow the men without being seen. Just as they were about to turn the corner towards the living room, the taller one suddenly turned back, throwing a spell over his shoulder towards them. Draco countered easily, but knew their game was up. Ron pulled the cloak off himself, firing away at the men with several fierce curses. His eyes narrowed as he determinedly cast spell after spell, countering the ones the Death Eater fired at them. Draco concentrated on the smaller man, who seemed less confident than his comrade. He seemed to favour defence over offence, countering with ease all of Draco's spells. He could hear the sound of a scuffle in the room ahead, and hoped the other two were OK – what if more had come in through the back? He hadn't thought of covering both doors! He couldn't hold the train of thought for long as his opponent kept shielding with expertise; he was quickly tiring from the casting. He could tell Weasley was doing the same – he had the harder opponent, one proficient at both offense and defence. A stunner sailed by his ear, missing him by barely centimetres. At that moment, Potter came running through the doorway behind the two men, Granger closely following him. The two men didn't stand a chance, sandwiched between two opponents; they quickly fell, unconscious to the ground.

"Let's get out of here," Granger panted, stepping over the men and closing the distance between them. "Back to the camp," she instructed, as they prepared to apparate away. He grabbed hold of the folds of the cloak, almost forgetting he was still wearing it. It would be a disaster to lose it whilst Apparating, who knows how many times it has saved them?

Draco's stomach dropped as he caught the look on Potters face seconds before they apparated away. He looked fascinated by something, his mind worlds away. A chill run down his spine, he had seen that absorbed look too often on someone else – the Dark Lord.


End file.
